WHEN trade and traffic and all the noise of town Is dimmed, and on the streets and squares The filmy curtain of the night sinks down With sleep, the recompense of cares, To me the darkness brings nor sleep nor rest. A pageant of the torturing hours Drags its slow course, and, writhing in my breast, A fanged snake my heart devours. My fears take form, and on the wearied brain Grief comes, in waves that overflow, And Memory turns a scroll to tell again A legend that too well I know. Reading the past with horror, shame, and dread, I tremble and I curse, But the repentant tears, the bitter tears I shed Will not wash out a single verse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLACK RIDERS: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE ODE TO FORTUNE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK YARROW REVISITED by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH TENNYSON by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 12 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE CHASE OF THE METAPHOR by RICHARD BLACKMORE THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 31. TO ONE WHO LOVED HIM by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: A LOVE LETTER by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |