Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
The gibbous moon, all chilling and wan,
Like a sleepless eyeball looketh on,
Like an eyeball of sorrow behind a shroud
Forth looketh she from a torn grey cloud,
Pouring sad radiance on the black air,—
Sun of the night,—what sees she there?
O lonely one, O lovely one,
What dost thou here in the forest dun,
Fair truant,—like an angel of light
Hiding from heaven in deep midnight?
Alas! there is guilt in thy glittering eye
As fearfully dark it looks up to the sky;
Alas! a dull unearthly light
Like a dead star, bluely white,
A seal of sin, I note it now,
Flickers upon thy ghastly brow;
And about the huge old oak
Thickly curls a poisonous smoke,
And terrible shapes with evil names
Are leaping around a circle of flames,
And the tost air whirls, storm-driven,
And the rent earth quakes, charm-riven,—
And—art thou not afraid?
Like a sleepless eyeball looketh on,
Like an eyeball of sorrow behind a shroud
Forth looketh she from a torn grey cloud,
Pouring sad radiance on the black air,—
Sun of the night,—what sees she there?
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What dost thou here in the forest dun,
Fair truant,—like an angel of light
Hiding from heaven in deep midnight?
Alas! there is guilt in thy glittering eye
As fearfully dark it looks up to the sky;
Alas! a dull unearthly light
Like a dead star, bluely white,
A seal of sin, I note it now,
Flickers upon thy ghastly brow;
And about the huge old oak
Thickly curls a poisonous smoke,
And terrible shapes with evil names
Are leaping around a circle of flames,
And the tost air whirls, storm-driven,
And the rent earth quakes, charm-riven,—
And—art thou not afraid?
| Ballads for the Times | |