Thus, by night to remain confounded by thee alone,
Unmoved by what in beateous form in need of an eye;
That this world brings forth to my sightless view,
Soon as I depart from a hundred shadows by thy grave;
Still to my mind hath weaved a laurel wreathe thy myrtle crown,
I am looking, looking through titanic visions afar:
A journey begins in my head of ages that are dead,
Foregone are the days, too, but in this waking hour,
Where my love of Manx Muse most abounds in thy abode,
And by looking liking moves me more than all eternity.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2014.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Monday, May 26,2014 2: 57: 21 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem