His heart to me, was a place of palaces and pinnacles and shining towers; I saw it then as we see things in dreams,-I do not remember how long I slept; I remember the tress, and the high, white walls, and how the sun was always on the towers; The walls are standing to-day, and the gates; I have been through the gates, I have groped, I have crept Back, back. There is dust in the streets, and blood; they are empty; darkness is over them; His heart is a place with the lights gone out, forsaken by great winds and the heavenly rain, unclean and unswept, Like the heart of the holy city, old blind, beautiful Jerusalem; Over which Christ wept. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MODERN LOVE: 17 by GEORGE MEREDITH THE ARAB TO HIS FAVORITE STEED by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON BEETHOVEN'S SEVENTH SYMPHONY by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN A NIGHT IN JUNE by ALFRED AUSTIN THE SOLITARY TOMB by BERNARD BARTON FOR STURDY FEET by A. DOROTHEA BATES COUPLETS IN PRAISE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |