We part as ships on a pathless main, Gayly enough, for the sense of pain Is asleep at first: but ghosts will arise When we would repose, and the forms will come And walk when we walk, and will not be dumb, Nor yet forget with their wakeful eyes. When we most need rest, and the perfect sleep, Some hand will reach from the dark, and keep The curtains drawn and the pillows toss'd Like a tide of foam; and one will say At night, -- O, Heaven, that it were day! And one by night through the misty tears Will say, -- O, Heaven, the days are years, And I would to Heaven that the waves were cross'd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TREKKING THE HILLS OF NORTHERN THAILAND by KAREN SWENSON STANZAS IN MEMORY OF THE AUTHOR OF OBERMANN by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE RIVULET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES by CHARLES LAMB YARROW UNVISITED by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH STORM AT SEA (1) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE A SOCIETY MARTYR by JOHN CLINTON ANTHONY |