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More poems by Hart CraneHart Crane | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (1) | Books by Hart CraneBooks by Hart Crane

Exile

Hart Crane

My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, --
No, -- nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell',
And with the day, distance again expands
Voiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.

Yet, love endures, though starving and alone.
A dove's wings clung about my heart each night
With surging gentleness, and the blue stone
Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.  

Added: 14 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 15 Dec 2018 6:48 AM | Viewed: 5869 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4432/ | Viewed on 15 December 2018.
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