IN the light of the moon, by the side of the water, My seat on the sand and her seat on my knees, We watch the bright billows, do I and my daughter, My sweet little daughter Louise. We wonder what city the pathway of glory That broadens away to the limitless west Leads up to -- she minds me of some pretty story And says -- "To the city that mortals love best." Then I say, "It must lead to the far-away city, The beautiful city of rest." In the light of the moon, by the side of the water, Stand two in the shadow of whispering trees, And one loves my daughter, my beautiful daughter, My womanly daughter Louise. She steps to the boat with a touch of his fingers, And out on the diamonded pathway they move. The shallop is lost in the distance; it lingers, It waits, but I know that its coming will prove That it went to the walls of the beautiful city The magical city of love. In the light of the moon, by the side of the water, I wait for her coming from over the seas; I wait but to welcome the dust of my daughter, To weep for my daughter Louise. The path, as of old, reaching out in its splendor, Gleams bright, like a way that an angel has trod; I kiss the cold burden its billows surrender, Sweet clay to lie under the pitiful sod; But she rests, at the end of the path, in the city, "Whose builder and maker is God." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ODE TO HIMSELF by BEN JONSON SONNET ON SITTING DOWN TO READ KING LEAR ONCE AGAIN by JOHN KEATS EPITAPH FOR A CONDEMNED BOOK by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE RESIGNATION by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE AN ELEGY ON THE LADY PEN; SENT TO MY MISTRESS OUT OF FRANCE by THOMAS CAREW |