The swirl of light follows me through the square, The smoke of incense Mounts from the four horns of my bed-posts, The water-jet of gold light bears us up through the ceilings; Lapped in the gold-coloured flame I descend through the aether. The silver ball forms in my hand, It falls and rolls to your feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A WATERFOWL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT NEEDLESS FEAR by EMILY DICKINSON SONNET: 87 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE CENCI; A TRAGEDY: ACTS 4-5 by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY AT BETHLEHEM: 3. TO HIS MOTHER by JOHN BANISTER TABB DELIVERANCE by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS STANZAS ADDRESSED TO SOME FRIEND GOING TO THE SEA-SIDE by BERNARD BARTON |