A MOON impoverished amid stars curtailed, A sun of its exuberant lustre shorn, A transient morning that is scarcely morn, A lingering night in double dimness veiled. -- Our hands are slackened and our strength has failed: We born to darkness, wherefore were we born? No ripening more for olive, grape, or corn: Faith faints, hope faints, even love himself has paled. Nay! love lifts up a face like any rose Flushing and sweet above a thorny stem, Softly protesting that the way he knows; And as for faith and hope, will carry them Safe to the gate of New Jerusalem, Where light shines full and where the palm-tree blows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A PORTRAIT OF WORDSWORTH BY B.R. HAYDON by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE HERONS OF ELMWOOD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A SKETCH by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI MY SISTER'S SLEEP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI POLITICAL GREATNESS by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY |