Around us, wheresoe'er we tread, The while our shadows pass them by, As in Bethsaida's porch the dead With upturned faces lie, Dreading, perchance, the vanished light And life's subsided fever-breath, As we the charnel-house of night Beyond the vale of death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CARMEN SYLVA by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS SALOME by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE AFTER-SIGHT by WILLIAM ROSE BENET WHEN LOVE GROWS COLD by LUMAN R. BOWDISH RED COTTON NIGHT-CAP COUNTRY; OR, TURF AND TOWERS: PART 2 by ROBERT BROWNING TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. ANDROMETA by EDWARD CARPENTER TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. AFTER FIFTY YEARS by EDWARD CARPENTER |