Dark house, by which once more I stand
Here in the long unlovely street,
Doors, where my heart was used to beat
So quickly, waiting for a hand,
A hand that can be clasp'd no more-
Behold me, for I cannot sleep,
And like a guilty thing I creep
At earliest morning to the door.
He is not here; but far away
The noise of life begins again,
And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain
On the bald street breaks the blank day.
In Memoriam A. H. H. 7
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(1)
Poem topics: away, dark, heart, house, life, rain, sleep, long, door, morning, stand, noise, guilty, Valentine's Day, street, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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