WE turned back mad from the mystic mountains, All foamed with red and with elfin gold: Up from the heart of the twilight's fountains The fires enchanted were starward rolled. We turned back mad: we thought of the morrow, The iron clang of the far-away town: We could not weep in our bitter sorrow, But joy as an Arctic sun went down. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROVING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON VOLUPTAS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CITY VIGNETTE: DAWN by SARA TEASDALE EPISTLE TO AUGUSTA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOM'S GARLAND: UPON THE UNEMPLOYED by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE PITY OF THE LEAVES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON RONDEL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |