THE train draws forth from the station-yard, And with it carries me. I rise, and stretch out, and regard The platform left, and see An airy slim blue form there standing, And know that it is she. While with strained vision I watch on, The figure turns round quite To greet friends gaily; then is gone.... The import may be slight, But why remained she not hard gazing Till I was out of sight? 'O do not chat with others there,' I brood. 'They are not I. O strain your thoughts as if they were Gold bands between us; eye All neighbour scenes as so much blankness Till I again am by! 'A troubled soughing in the breeze And the sky overhead Let yourself feel; and shadeful trees, Ripe corn, and apples red, Read as things barren and distasteful While we are separated! 'When I come back uncloak your gloom, And let in lovely day; Then the long dark as of the tomb Can well be thrust away With sweet things I shall have to practise, And you will have to say!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FROM THE GREATER TESTAMENT (XXII, XXIII, AND XXVI) by FRANCOIS VILLON AN EPITAPH ON M.H. by CHARLES COTTON WISHES TO HIS SUPPOSED MISTRESS by RICHARD CRASHAW MOONRISE by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS APOLOGIA PRO POEMATE MEO by WILFRED OWEN THE VISION OF SIN by ALFRED TENNYSON SIX TOWN ECLOGUES: SATURDAY; THE SMALL-POX by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU |