Jolt of market-carts; Steady drip of horses' hoofs on hard pavement; A black sky lacquered over with blueness, And the lights of Battersea Bridge Pricking pale in the dawn. The beautiful hours are passing And still you sleep! Tired heart of my joy, Incurved upon your dreams, Will the day come before you have opened to me? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRODIGAL SON by DAVID IGNATOW A BIT OF SKY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ARMAGEDDON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SOLDIER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO W.E.B. DUBOIS - SCHOLAR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MARRIAGE (1) by TIMOTHY LIU OCTAVES: 8 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |