SICK of myself and all that keeps the light Of the blue skies away from me and mine, I climb this ledge, and by this wind-swept pine Lingering, watch the coming of the night. 'T is ever a new wonder to my sight. Men look to God for some mysterious sign, For other stars than those that nightly shine, For some unnatural symbol of His might: -- Wouldst see a miracle as grand as those The prophets wrought of old in Palestine? Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows In yonder West; the fair, frail palaces, The fading alps and archipelagoes, And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVERYBODY KNOWS by DAVID IGNATOW COSMOPOLITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MATE (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MAN TO BE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO HENRY LINCOLN JOHNSON - LAWYER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |