Poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Identity

SOMEWHERE—in desolate wind-swept space—
In Twilight-land—in No-man's land—
Two hurrying Shapes met face to face,
And bade each other stand.
 
"And who are you?" cried one a-gape,
Shuddering in the gloaming light.
"I know not," said the second Shape,
"I only died last night!"

1. On Reading William Watson's Sonnet Entitled The Purple East
2. Sestet
3. The Menu
4. I'll Not Confer with Sorrow
5. No Songs in Winter

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