THROUGH some strange sense of sight or touch I find what all have found before, The presence I have feared so much, The unknown's immaterial door. I seek not and it comes to me; I do not know the thing I find: The fillet of fatality Drops from my brows that made me blind. Point forward now or backward, light! The way I take I may not choose: Out of the night into the night, And in the night no certain clews. But on the future, dim and vast, And dark with dust and sacrifice, Death's towering ruin from the past Makes black the land that round me lies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON FINDING A FAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON IN THE SHADOWS: MY EPITAPH by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW VENICE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CRUCIFIXION TO THE WORLD BY THE CROSS OF CHRIST by ISAAC WATTS ON THE DEATH OF A DAUGHTER by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |