How the hot revel's fever dies, Beneath the stillness of the skies! How suddenly the whirl and glare Shoot far away, and this cold air Its icy beverage brings, to chase The burning wine-flush from my face! The window's gleam still faintly falls, And music sounds at intervals, Jarring the pulses of the night With whispers of profane delight; But on the midnight's awful strand, Like some wrecked swimmer flung to land, I lie, and hear those breakers roar: And smile -- they cannot harm me more! Keep, keep your lamps; they do not mar The silver of a single star. The painted roses you display Drop from your cheeks, and fade away; The snowy warmth you bid me see Is hollowness and mockery; The words that make your sin so fair Grow silent in this vestal air; The loosened madness of your hair, That wrapped me in its snaky coils, No more shall mesh me in your toils; Your very kisses on my brow Burn like the lips of devils now. O sacred night! O virgin calm! Teach me the immemorial psalm Of your eternal watch sublime Above the grovelling lusts of Time! Within, the orgie shouts and reels; Without, the planets' golden wheels Spin, circling through the utmost space; Within, each flushed and reckless face Is masked to cheat a haunting care; Without, the silence and the prayer. Within, the beast of flesh controls; Without, the God that speaks in souls! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOTHING BUT LEAVES by LUCY EVELINA AKERMAN VLAMERTINGHE: PASSING THE CHATEAU, JULY 1917 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AT CASTLE WOOD by EMILY JANE BRONTE RETREAT by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK by ROBERT HERRICK THE PITY OF THE LEAVES by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |