In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the red chasm grow Among the clicking coals. Our library-bower That eve was left to us: and hushed we sat As lovers to whom Time is whispering. From sudden-opened doors we heard them sing: The nodding elders mixed good wine with chat. Well knew we that Life's greatest treasure lay With us, and of it was our talk. 'Ah, yes! Love dies!' I said: I never thought it less. She yearned to me that sentence to unsay. Then when the fire domed blackening, I found Her cheek was salt against my kiss, and swift Up the sharp scale of sobs her breast did lift: -- Now am I haunted by that taste! that sound! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE DRIVING CLOUD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE BALLAD OF A DAFT GIRL by DOROTHY ALDIS AND IF THE SONG SHOULD DIE? by ANNIE HATCH BOORNAZIAN TREES IN AUTUMN by ANNE MILLAY BREMER TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. O THOU WHOSE FORM by EDWARD CARPENTER |