BLOOD-SHOTTEN through the bleak gigantic trees The sunset, o'er a wilderness of snow, Startles the wolfish winds that wilder grow As hunger mocks their howling miseries. In every skulking shadow Fancy sees The menace of an undiscovered foe -- A sullen footstep, treacherous and slow, That comes, or into deeper darkness flees. Nor Day nor Night, in Time's eternal round Whereof the tides are telling, e'er hath passed This Isthmus-hour -- this dim, mysterious land That sets their lives asunder -- where up-cast Their earliest and their latest waves resound, As each, alternate, nears or leaves the strand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I PAY MY DEBT FOR LAFAYETTE AND ROCHAMBEAU' by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FARM CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR UNGRATEFULNESS by GEORGE HERBERT SONNET: 8 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE STILL FALLS THE RAIN; THE RAIDS, 1940. NIGHT AND DAWN by EDITH SITWELL NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO THE SOLITUDE OF FONTENAY by GUILLAUME AMFRYE |