I saw red evening through the rain Lower above the steaming plain; I heard the hour strike small and still, From the black belfry on the hill. Thought is driven out of doors tonight By bitter memory of delight; The sharp constraint of finger tips, Or the shuddering touch of lips. I heard the hour strike small and still, From the black belfry on the hill. Behind me I could still look down On the outspread monstrous town. The sharp constraint of finger tips, Or the shuddering touch of lips, And all old memories of delight Crowd upon my soul tonight. Behind me I could still look down On the outspread feverish town; But before me, still and grey, And lonely was the forward way. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROMISE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MY PRETTY ROSE TREE, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE ROBIN REDBREAST by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM FRAGMENT OF OLDE STUFFE by JAMES A. BRILL A MAN'S DEBT by FRED EMERSON BROOKS PARISINA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |