IN vain the morning trims her brows, A shadow all the sunshine shrouds; The moon at evening vainly ploughs Her golden furrows in the clouds. In vain the morn her splendor hath; The stars, in vain, their gracious cheer; There moves a phantom on my path, A shapeless phantom that I fear. The summer wears a weary smile, A weary hum the woodland fills; The dusty road looks tired the while It climbs along the sleepy hills. Still do I strive to build my song Against this grim aggressive gloom; O hope, I say, be strong, be strong! Some special, saving grace must come. I sit and talk of sunnier skies, Of flowers with healing in their gleams, But still the shapeless shadow flies Before me to the land of dreams. O friends of mine, who sit dismayed And watch, I cry, with bated breath; Yet from their answering shrink afraid, Lest that they name the name of Death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APPARENT FAILURE by ROBERT BROWNING THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE EXILE'S SONG by ROBERT GILFILLAN A WISH by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI A SONNET WRITTEN BY A NYMPH IN HER OWN BLOOD by CLAUDIO ACHILLINI VERSES TO A FRIEND by BERNARD BARTON A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 35 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT NARCISSUS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 42 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |