While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes, My heart would brim with dreams about the times When we bent down above the fading coals; And talked of the dark folk, who live in souls Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees; And of the wayward twilight companies, Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content, Because their blossoming dreams have never bent Under the fruit of evil and of good: And of the embattled flaming multitude Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame, And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name, And with the clashing of their sword blades make A rapturous music, till the morning break, And the white hush end all, but the loud beat Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH PARAGRAPHS: 9 by HAYDEN CARRUTH ODE TO THE BROWN PAPER BAG by JAMES GALVIN WESTERN CIVILIZATION by JAMES GALVIN DESIRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |