THE wan September moonbeams, struggling down Through the gray clouds upon her desolate head, The coldness of their muffled radiance shed Faintly above her like a spectral crown: So, glimmering ghostlike in the dreary light, Recounting her strange sorrows o'er and o'er, Her words rang hollow as far waves ashore Rolled through the sombre void of windless night. Nor in her mortal weakness could she win Even brief redemption from the soul's eclipse. She looked like suffering Patience, on whose lips Cold fingers press to keep the wild grief in. Suddenly on the pathos and the woe Of that sad vision broke the gleeful noise From the near playground of blithe girls and boys, Through shine and shadow hurrying to and fro. A wearier shade the pallid face o'er-crossed; She shivered, dropping; but through flowery bars Of the rude trellis sought the distant stars, Saying, low: "@3Where dwell in heaven my loved and lost?@1 Dear Christ, I thought, if soft and ruthful, thou Still reign'st beyond us, -- ah! assuage the pain Of this worn soul, more laden than hers of Nain; Ope thy deep heavens for one swift moment now; And, while her very heart-throbs seem to cease For rapture, let those hungering eyes behold Her lost beloved transfigured in thy fold, Crowned with the palm, walking the fields of peace! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANOTHER SONG WITHOUT WORDS by PAUL VERLAINE THE LOVER COMFORTETH HIMSELF WITH THE WORTHINESS OF HIS LOVE by HENRY HOWARD SONGO RIVER; CONNECTING LAKE SEBAGO AND LONG LAKE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE WORLD by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO LADY ANNE HAMILTON by WILLIAM ROBERT SPENCER IN THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH; 1677 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |