Poem Lake | Page 6 | The Greatest Poems of All Time

Some say goodnight — at night — Some say goodnight — at night — I say goodnight by day — Good-bye — the Going utter me — Goodnight, I still reply — For parting, that is night, And presence, simply dawn — Itself, the purple on the... Poet:	Somehow myself survived the Night Somehow myself survived the Night And entered with the Day — That it be saved the Saved suffice Without the Formula. Henceforth I take my living place As one commuted led — A Candidate for Morning... Poet:	Sunset at Night — is natural — Sunset at Night — is natural — But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature — Master — So Midnight's — due — at Noon. Eclipses be — predicted — And Science bows them in — But do one face us suddenly —... Poet:	The first Day's Night had come — The first Day's Night had come — And grateful that a thing So terrible — had been endured — I told my Soul to sing — She said her Strings were snapt — Her Bow — to Atoms blown — And so to mend her —... Poet:
The last Night that She lived She mentioned, and forgot; Then lightly as a reed Bent to the water, shivered scarce, Consented, and was dead. And we, we placed the hair, And drew the head erect; And then an awful leisure was,... Poet:	The Night was wide, and furnished scant The Night was wide, and furnished scant With but a single Star — That often as a Cloud it met — Blew out itself — for fear — The Wind pursued the little Bush — And drove away the Leaves November left... Poet:	To Celia. Occasioned by her apprehending her house would be broke open, and having an old fellow to guard it, who sat up all night, with a gun without any ammunition. CUPID CALLED TO ACCOUNT. LAST night, as my unwilling mind To rest, dear Celia, I resign'd; For how should I repose enjoy, While any fears your breast annoy? Forbid it, heav'n, that I should be... Poet:	When Night is almost done — When Night is almost done — And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces — It's time to smooth the Hair — And get the Dimples ready — And wonder we could care For that old — faded Midnight... Poet: