INTO the shadowland of Yesterday The night has flown on unreturning wings: This night whose moments were our golden strings Whereon those passionate melodies to play Of which the echoes all about us stay With hints of incommunicable things: This night, whereof no dawn oblivion brings, Nor any step of all our ultimate way. So now, as one who leaves the Sacrament To read the Word, I loose thy hands, my sweet, That so my reasonable soul may greet And be conformed to thine—the day be spent In converse intimate, night find us blent In union more essential, more complete. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRODIGAL SON by DAVID IGNATOW ISOLATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WOMAN'S INCONSTANCY by ROBERT AYTON AN ANGLER'S WISH by HENRY VAN DYKE DUNCAN WEIR by ALEXANDER ANDERSON BODY AND SOUL by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 12 by RICHARD BARNFIELD |