 | Sonnets : a sequence on profane love by George Henry Boker |  |
[XXXIII. As some new ghost, that wanders to and fro]
As some new ghost, that wanders to and froBy dreary Lethe, turns his vacant eyes,
Drowsy with recent death, to those dull skies,
And barren lands, and that black river's flow;
And finds, poor ghost, how strange and stranger grow
The wretched scene; till, stung with wild surprise,
His earthly memory lifts its piteous cries
For what it loved, but never more shall know.
Now thou art gone, so seems this empty place,
A darkness settles down o'er land and main,
A strangeness haunts the chambers of my brain;
Gone is the splendor of thy radiant face,
No prayer can summon back its tender grace;
So I lie down, and strive to die again.
June 6, 1861
| Sonnets : a sequence on profane love by George Henry Boker | |