OF all the hours what hour is best But that which draws us both to rest? And next, when early rumours shake Our sleepiness and bid us wake: For then the high delights that show In our day's progress to and fro,— And from some deep interior part As if in sudden wrath do start To be so long forgotten, and Nimbly transmute a cheek or hand Into a bright eternal thing, A landmark on our wayfaring,— Invisibly do us possess: The wisdom that in wakefulness Is by Imagination seen Now in this soft betwixt-between Flows through our limbs; eternity Breathes at the lattices; and we, Lightly together folded, prove The immortal friendliness of love; When, last or first, the instinctive kiss Reminds us what long privacies Of night and of repose were known, Preludes to this communion Of peace, within whose waves we are Far-borne and drawn again from far, Filled with the happy, silent, deep Potentialities of sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SONG OF COURAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON OUTWARD BOUND by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE FORSAKEN MERMAN by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE MAN HE KILLED by THOMAS HARDY THE TEMERAIRE by HERMAN MELVILLE THE NINE LITTLE GOBLINS by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |