THIS is the midnight of the century, -- hark! Through aisle and arch of Godminster have gone Twelve throbs that tolled the zenith of the dark, And mornward now the starry hands move on; "Mornward!" the angelic watchers say, "Passed is the sorest trial; No plot of man can stay The hand upon the dial; Night is the dark stem of the lily Day." If we, who watched in valleys here below, Toward streaks, misdeemed of morn, our faces turned When volcan glares set all the east aglow, -- We are not poorer that we wept and yearned; Though earth swing wide from God's intent, And though no man nor nation Will move with full consent In heavenly gravitation, Yet by one Sun is every orbit bent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I LIFT MY CANDLE by ELLEN ANDERSON COMPLAINS, BEING HIND'RED THE SIGHT OF HIS NYMPH by PHILIP AYRES THE VANISHED MOUNTAINS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE SPRING OF THE YEAR by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN GOOD COUNSEL TO A YOUNG MAID by THOMAS CAREW |