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Poem by Francis Turner Palgrave A Night Journey A FLASH of steam, a dash of light Through the black centre of the night, With shriek and whirlwind goes the train Across the slopes of sweet Touraine. And o’er fair Europe’s shadowy face A hundred more their errand trace, And night surveys them, calm and free, To her as little as to me. But from that one of all that roll, A vision lightens on the soul, Where love is on her way to bring Love’s sweetness to the sorrowing. Through year-long hours of hope and woe She sits and waits, till dawning show The stately terraces that crown The level waves of broad Garonne. Her heart is gone before her there, And sees the room and empty chair, And one who on the death-bed lies, And prays to see her ere she dies. O Love, that sits so white and still! I think and think upon her, till My heart is with her heart again, Crossing the slopes of sweet Touraine. Francis Turner Palgrave Francis Turner Palgrave's other poems: 1175 Views |
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