SHE was here, and she is gone, Yet there is singing; Round this heart of crumbling stone Music still is clinging As birds round cliffs where tempests groan All day are winging. How can music still go onon And she gone? She is here no more but can Her song be gone? Stars that waned when dawn began Still burn purely on, Silence sings when every song of man Is done. How shall her song be mute although her span Of life be done? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROMANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CUDDLE DOON by ALEXANDER ANDERSON FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: A BEAUTIFUL NIGHT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES DEAD COW FARM by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ADLESTROP by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS COTTON MILL FUNERAL by STEWART ATKINS SONNET TO THE DEBEN by BERNARD BARTON A GARGOYLE by ARTHUR STANLEY BOURINOT THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: DESIRE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |