Out of a world of pain, In a trance that may well be death, I drift on a barge thro' the fields again Wherein I first drew breath. And the river cools my face And the river-scented flowers, Water-mint and tall loose-strife Bring me memories deep as life From all my vanished hours, And a white wraith-figure of you -- White arms, white hands, white breast -- Drifts by my side, and alone we two Drink of the river of rest. And the wind sighs in the reeds -- Gently -- a little wind -- And lightly and sadly the gossamer-seeds Float away o'er the river-meads, Blown by that little wind, And cool airs touch our faces And your wraith-like hollow eyes Grow soft with the leafy places, And the low-breathed reedy sighs; And on and on we drift, Where the cattle stand in ranks, And the swallows flit and skim Over green and mossy banks; Till the willows droop like ghosts And the twilight fills the plain And the rooks in solemn hosts Gather and drift like rain. Then at last I feel and know That all my memories As they wavered and flickered in endless flow Were premonitions sent long ago Of nothing else than this! Than that I with you by my side, Wraith-like but lovely still, Should follow the river and drift and glide, Past forest and forest -- past hill and hill; Till the river we follow grows one with the sea. Ah, the pain again -- it will never be! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVELATION AT CAP FERRAT by CLARENCE MAJOR CARGO MOVING TO GAZA (1988) by MARVIN BELL LOVE IN TWILIGHT by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH NOT TRANSHISTORICAL DEATH, OR AT LEAST NOT QUITE by HAYDEN CARRUTH |