I know the sorrows of the last abyss: I walked the cold black pools without a star; I lay on rock of unseen flint and spar; I heard the execrable serpent hiss; I dreamed of sun, fruit-tree, and virgin's kiss; I woke alone with midnight near and far, And everlasting hunger, keen to mar; But I arose, and my reward is this: I am no more one more amid the throng: Though name be naught, and lips forever weak, I seem to know at last of mighty song; And with no blush, no tremor on the cheek, I do claim consort with the great and strong Who suffered ill and had the gift to speak. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VERSES WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF AN OLD VISITATION COPY OF ARMS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD AN AUTUMN TRINKET by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN SONG by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON TREE-BUILDING by FRANKLIN CABLE BEER by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE HOUR OF MAGIC by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES |