Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


WHITE FOG by SARA TEASDALE

Poet Analysis

First Line: HEAVEN-INVADING HILLS ARE DROWNED
Last Line: MYSELF REMAINS TO COMFORT ME.

Heaven-invading hills are drowned
In wide moving waves of mist,
Phlox before my door are wound
In dripping wreaths of amethyst.

Ten feet away the solid earth
Changes into melting cloud,
There is a hush of pain and mirth,
No bird has heart to speak aloud.

Here in a world without a sky,
Without the ground, without the sea,
The one unchanging thing is I,
Myself remains to comfort me.



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