The shapes of waking moments wearied him, Heroic beauty stirred him as he slept; And so he lived his youth, and so he crept Back to the old shadows beautiful and dim. But at the call to arms his eyes were grim; Dreams must be saved! So he, the dream adept, Seeing young Death afar where Horrow swept, Leapt with a lover's trembling in each limb. He sought her out he knew to be his maiden And cried to her he flamed for as his bride. The thundering guns were viols for his suit, And iron shards his couch. The day was laden With scent of deadly blossoms, and he died - And now, wrapt with his maiden, he is mute. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVULET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 7. CHERRY RIPE by THOMAS CAMPION TO SIR GODFREY KNELLER by JOHN DRYDEN DURING WIND AND RAIN by THOMAS HARDY FRIENDSHIP'S MYSTERY, TO MY DEAREST LUCASIA by KATHERINE PHILIPS ON THE DEATH OF MRS. MARTINEAU by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE VISIONS OF BELLAY by JOACHIM DU BELLAY |