Hearken, O dear, now strikes the hour we die;
We, who in our strange kiss
Have proved a dream the world's realities,
Turned each from other's darkness with a sigh,
Need heed no more of life, waste no more breath
On any other journey, but of death.
And yet: Oh, know we well
How each of us must prove Love's infidel;
Still out of ecstasy turn trembling back
To earth's same empty track
Of leaden day by day, and hour by hour, and be
Of all things lovely the cold mortuary.
Life
Walter De La Mare
(1)
Poem topics: breath, death, dream, journey, kiss, life, world, dear, earth, cold, prove, waste, strange, love, I love you, Valentine's Day, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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