From our low seat beside the fire Where we have dozed and dreamed and watched the glow Or raked the ashes, stopping so We scarcely saw the sun or rain Above, or looked much higher Than this same quiet red or burned-out fire. Tonight we heard a call, A rattle on the window-pane, A voice on the sharp air, And felt a breath stirring our hair, A flame within us: Something swift and tall Swept in and out and that was all. Was it a bright or a dark angel? Who can know? It left no mark upon the snow, But suddenly it snapped the chain Unbarred, flung wide the door Which will not shut again; And so we cannot sit here any more. We must arise and go: The world is cold without And dark and hedged about With mystery and enmity and doubt, But we must go Though yet we do not know Who called, or what marks we shall leave upon the snow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRISTRAM AND ISEULT by MATTHEW ARNOLD A DAY REMORSEFUL by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE ENGLISH POETS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AMONG THE LAKES by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB REVERY by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON TO A VAIN LADY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ON THE BEACH; LINES BY A PRIVATE TUTOR by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |