As when at Mary's voice Elizabeth Felt in her womb the restlessness of feet That would outrun delaying birth, and greet Alike unseen the Conqueror of Death: So, at the hour of midnight wakes a breath That in the womb of darkness moves to meet The soul of Morning, and a silence sweet As incense tells of one that worshippeth. Yea, life forever in expectancy Stands tip-toe on the utmost brink of time, Hushing the past, and listening to hear (As poets the inevitable rhyme) A dream's fulfilment in the echoes clear That sing the present in futurity. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FISH-LEAP FALL by ROBERT FROST SICILIAN EMIGRANT'S SONG by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE LITTLE GIRL LOST, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE WAY TO ARCADY by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER EPISTLE TO SIR ROBERT WALPOLE (1) by HENRY FIELDING |