NOW that the soul has left its throne
Behind your mortal eyes,
And light, and colour and sound are gone
From the body's palaces :
Still in his wood the blackbird calls,
But there is one too few to hear :
And one too few to watch the trout
Swim through the music of the weir.
And once I dreamt that you were gone,
As dust upon the wave ;
Or, as a dropp in some deep well,
That none could sort or save.
But falling low between the stars,
So soon as I had such a fear,
At dusk and dawn a whisper came :
'The dead are near: the dead are near.
The Fallen Poet
Herbert Asquith
(1)
Poem topics: fear, light, music, soul, deep, hear, whisper, dust, body, colour, save, swim, sound, watch, dawn, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
<< The Fallen Subaltern Poem
Next Poem
Write your comment about The Fallen Poet poem by Herbert Asquith
Best Poems of Herbert Asquith