BY hot noon, in a vale of Dargestan, Lifeless, a bullet in my breast, I lay; Smoke rose from a deep wound, and my blood ran Out of me, drop by drop, and ebbed away. I lay upon the burning sand alone. Sheer precipices crowded all around. Their yellow tops were scorching in the sun, And I scorched too, in death's sleep, on the ground. I dreamed a dream, and saw the glittering hours Of evening gaiety in my own place; And there young women, garlanded with flowers, Held talk of me in words of happy grace. But in that happy talk not joining, one Sat far apart, and sunk in thought she seemed; And oh! -- the cause is known to God alone -- This was the sad dream that her young soul dreamed. She dreamed she saw a vale of Dargestan.... There on the slope a well-known body lay; Smoke rose from a black wound, and the blood ran In cold streams out of it, and ebbed away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN THE TENTH MUSE: THE VANITY OF ALL WORLDLY THINGS by ANNE BRADSTREET UNWELCOME by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE MY SWEET BROWN GAL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR BILLY, HE'S IN TROUBLE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS |