Robert Laurence Binyon

(1869-1943 / England)

The Last Evening - Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon

Over sea the sun in a mystery of light
Burns across the waters, on the blown spray glancing:
Luminously crested, wave behind wave advancing
Pours its rushing foam with low continual roar.
The wide sands around us, flashing wet and bright,
Mirror cliffs suffused with clearest warmth serene,
Rosy earth, gray rocks, and grass of greenest green;
We two pace together the solitary shore.

A sadness and a joy are mingled in the air;
From the dying day a voice, I go and come back never,
From the waves an answering shout, We rush, we break for ever,
Wake in my heart echoes that conflicting swell.
Now on the last evening, now we are aware
Of something in our souls that will not say, 'Tis ended.
In our parting looks are thoughts eternal blended:
See, our hands are joined; we cannot say farewell!


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, September 1, 2010



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