Heaven is full of stars to-night; the earth Lies hushed, as she shall lie some day, perhaps, When life and death no longer trouble her -- No voice, no cry in the whole countryside. The empty road rambles through field and thicket, And in the road are prints of hoof and foot: Along the surface of this lonely planet, Now naked to the hunger of the stars, Man and beast, on the old pilgrimage, They passed together here -- not long ago. What was it they were looking for I wonder, Or if, themselves, they knew? Where were they going? Footsteps -- always footsteps going somewhere -- What country is it that they all are seeking, Who up and down the world by night or day Move with such patience, always to one end? Not the least sound. Not the least leaf disturbs The immemorial majesty of heaven. Footprints -- only footprints going somewhere. Wherever they were going, they are gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MONK IN THE KITCHEN by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH DON JUAN: CANTO 1 by GEORGE GORDON BYRON PASSING BY by THOMAS FORD (1580-1648) SHELLEY'S SKYLARK by THOMAS HARDY THE LONG WHITE SEAM by JEAN INGELOW THE BELLS OF LYNN; HEARD AT NAHANT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW OVER THE RIVER by NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST |