I TAKE your poems in my hand and read them beside the candle; The poems are finished: the candle is low: dawn not yet come. With sore eyes by the guttering candle still I sit in the dark, Listening to waves that, driven by the wind, strike the prow of the ship. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HARRIET BEECHER STOWE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR ON THE SLAIN COLLEGIANS by HERMAN MELVILLE THE BURNING OF THE TEMPLE by ISAAC ROSENBERG PICTURESQUE; A FRAGMENT by JOHN AIKIN GOODS TRAIN AT NIGHT by KENNETH H. ASHLEY TO A FRIEND by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TRANSITION by MIRIAM BARRANGER ABRAHAM by JOHN STUART BLACKIE HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 21 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |