THE might that shaped itself through storm and stress In chaos, here is lulled in breathing sweet; Under the long brown ridge in gentleness Its fierce old pulses beat. Quiet and sad we go at eve; the fire That woke exultant in an earlier day Is dead; the memories of old desire Only in shadows play. We liken love to this and that; our thought The echo of a deeper being seems: We kiss, because God once for beauty sought Within a world of dreams. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAERY FOREST by SARA TEASDALE GARDEN FANCIES: 1. THE FLOWER'S NAME by ROBERT BROWNING INVITES HIS NYMPH TO HIS COTTAGE by PHILIP AYRES IN AUTUMN TONES by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS IN THE DARK by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |