1 Mornings were there, richer than of Eastern story, When the dark, wet trunks the sun-bathed elms uphold, Bedded in the leaves whose lustrous glory Half was sheen of emeralds, half of lucent gold. 2 Evenings when the sun set, like a king departed Unto other lands with revel, pomp, and light, While the queenly moon, deserted, pale, proud-hearted, Paces the still corridors of the stars all night. 3 Hours of golden noonday, when the blood up-leaping Like a soft, swift lightning pulses through the veins; Hours of shrouded midnight, when the soul unsleeping Calm self-knowledge, wider trust, and patience gains. 4 Friendships truer than all woman's brittle passion, Love that in its fullness, even while we stand Here, to part, has only stammering expression, Dumb and half-embarrassed clinging hand to hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARADISE by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 48 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 63 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN AFTER MUSIC by JOSEPHINE PRESTON PEABODY THE BEST MEMORIAL by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 35 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |