On the wide waste the web of twilight trembling, Hangs low with stars and night, The dying day, in the worn west dissembling, Crowns his defeat with light. Here by the sands and dunes my soul sinks crying, By beauty stabbed to death -- "O in the dusk of the world let me too, dying, Mingle with these my breath!" There is no answer. In the cold heavens shining, Star trembles unto star; The virgin moon in the clear west declining Hangs, like a scimitar. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER BISHOP BLOUGRAM'S APOLOGY by ROBERT BROWNING BREST LEFT BEHIND by JOHN CHIPMAN FARRAR IVAN THE CZAR by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ANNE RUTLEDGE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS by THOMAS MOORE |