THERE is a Lantern of true, silent deeds Swinging refulgent in the spacious air, Where restless words, those misty messengers Sob out their subtle hearts with yea and nay, And, like to myriad insects fluttering, Brush with their wings that spiring crystal horn That keeps inviolate a constant light. 'Tis the presiding sun at every birth, The soft consoling moon at every death; And in the middle watches of our life What is it but the one sweet single star, Whose twinkle, like the laughter of dear thoughts, Upon the feeble vadings of our hearts Sheds ever rays of tender irony! Come night, come day, it knows no faltering, Swung o'er the hubbub of a windy world. No victory, but it doth halo round, No sad defeat, whose wounds it hath not bathed; And in those trackless wilds where nothing's done -- A mournful eye, its faint far glimmering Peers through the distance everlastingly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WOLF AND THE DOG by JEAN DE LA FONTAINE AUTUMN MALADE by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE AN EXPOSTULATION WITH LOVE by PHILIP AYRES VICISSITUDES by GAMALIEL BRADFORD LAST WORDS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON ON THE DEATH OF MRS. [ELIZABETH] ROWE by ELIZABETH CARTER |