IT SEEMS like a dream -- that sweet wooing of old -- Like a legend of fairies on pages of gold -- Too soon the sweet story of loving was closed, Too rudely awakened the soul that reposed; I kissed the white lips that lay under the pall, And crept back to you, lonely Bachelor Hall. Mine eyes have grown dim and my hair has turned white, But my heart beats as warmly and gaily tonight As in days that are gone and years that are fled -- Though I fill up my flagon and drink to the dead; For over my senses sweet memories fall, And the dead is come back to old Bachelor Hall. I see her fair face through a vapor of tears, And her sweet voice comes back o'er the desert of years, And I hear, oh, so gently, the promises she spoke, And a soft spirit hand soothes the heart that is broke; So I fill up the flagon, and drink -- that is all -- To the dead and the dying of Bachelor Hall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR CITY VIGNETTE: RAIN AT NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE THE WAY TO ARCADY by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER SONNET (ON RECEIVING A LETTER INFORMING ME OF THE BIRTH OF A SON) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TAM I' THE KIRK by VIOLET JACOB TO A CHAMELEON by MARIANNE MOORE CAPTAIN CARPENTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM PSALM 45 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THREE EPISTLES TO G. LLOYD ON A PASSAGE FROM HOMER'S ILIAD: 2 by JOHN BYROM |