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| 52. | LII |
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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
LII
And still my soul holds phantom tryst,
When chestnuts hiss among the coals,
Upon the Evening of All Souls,
When all the night is moon and mist,
And all the world is mystery;
I kiss dear lips that death hath kissed,
And look in eyes no man may see,
Filled with a love long lost to me.
When chestnuts hiss among the coals,
Upon the Evening of All Souls,
47
And all the world is mystery;
I kiss dear lips that death hath kissed,
And look in eyes no man may see,
Filled with a love long lost to me.
I hear the night-wind's ghostly glove
Flutter the window: then the knob
Of some dark door turn, with a sob
As when love comes to gaze on love
Who lies pale-coffined in a room:
And then the iron gallop of
The storm, who rides outside, his plume
Sweeping the night with dread and gloom.
Flutter the window: then the knob
Of some dark door turn, with a sob
As when love comes to gaze on love
Who lies pale-coffined in a room:
And then the iron gallop of
The storm, who rides outside, his plume
Sweeping the night with dread and gloom.
So fancy takes my mind, and paints
The darkness with eidolon light,
And writes the deads' romance in white
On the dim Evening of All Saints:
Unheard the hissing nuts; the clink
Of falling coals, whose shadow faints
Around me where I sit and think,
Borne far beyond the actual's brink.
The darkness with eidolon light,
And writes the deads' romance in white
On the dim Evening of All Saints:
Unheard the hissing nuts; the clink
Of falling coals, whose shadow faints
Around me where I sit and think,
Borne far beyond the actual's brink.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |