THE passionless twilight slowly fades Beyond the gray, grim woodland glades, Till now, with mournful eyes, I mark The approaching dark: A clouded spirit, borne from far, Whose sombre front no delicate star Brightens, -- to tint with silvery light Her realms of night: An @3awful@1 spirit! her pale lips Low whispering down the drear eclipse, Send thro' those rayless spaces chill An ominous thrill: Her tongue's strange language none may know; We only feel it ebb and flow In murmurs of half-muffled sighs, And vague replies: All hail! akin to me thou art, Dim angel of the veiled heart -- Ah! wrap me close, ah! fold me deep! I fain would sleep! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER WINTER by STERLING ALLEN BROWN EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: COMMON FORM by RUDYARD KIPLING AMERICAN THEMES FOR A GILBERT by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS VIVAMUS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES WRITTEN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1864 by ALICE CARY THE CHURCHMAN'S THREE WISHES IN FAVOUR OF THE BURIAL BILL by ROWLAND EYLES EGERTON-WARBURTON IMMORTALITY by EFFIE SMITH ELY |