Lo, through the open window of the room That was her nursery, a small bright spark Comes wandering in, as falls the summer dark, And with a measured flight explores the gloom, As if it sought, among the things that loom Vague in the dusk, for some familiar mark, And like a light on some wee unseen bark, It tacks in search of who knows what or whom. I know 'tis but a fire-fly; yet its flight, So straight, so measured, round the empty bed, Might be a little soul's that night sets free; And as it nears, I feel my heart grow tight With something like a superstitious dread, And watch it breathless, lest it should be she. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DON JUAN IN HELL by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE THE RE-CURED LOVER EXULTETH IN HIS FREEDOM by THOMAS WYATT TO THE RAILROAD MEN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 10. THE FAIR by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE IVY; ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG FRIEND by BERNARD BARTON A MANUAL MORE ANCIENT THAT THE ART OF PRINTING ... by VINCENT BOURNE THE POET AND THE BIRD; A FABLE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |