Midsummer night, without a moon, but the stars In a serene bright multitude were there, Even the shyest ones, even the faint motes shining Low in the north under the Little Bear. When I have said "This tragic farce I play in Has neither dignity, delight nor end," The holy night draws all its stars around me -- I am ashamed, I have betrayed my Friend. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ETUDES DE PLUSIERS PAYSAGES DE L' AME: 1 by HAYDEN CARRUTH MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO KNOW IN REVERIE THE ONLY PHENOMENOLOGY OF THE ABSOLUTE by HAYDEN CARRUTH AFTER VERLAINE by ANSELM HOLLO TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |