TO outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand,
Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.
Save for a cry that echoes shrill
From some lone bird disconsolate;
A corncrake calling to its mate;
The answer from the misty hill.
And suddenly the moon withdraws
Her sickle from the lightening skies,
And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
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Comments2WOW, THIS POEM REALLY GOT ME THINKING. 'IMPRESSIONS II. LA FUITE DE LA LUNE' BY OSCAR WILDE IS TRULY A GEM! I GOT LOST IN THE IMAGRY AND THE DEEP DEEP SILENCE OF THE SHADOWY LAND. THE IMAGRY OF THE LONELY BIRD AND THE ESCAPING MOON WRAPPED IN VEIL REALLY CAPTURED MY IMAGINATION. LOVELY POEM! ACCTUALY THIS MIGHT BE MY NEW FAVRITE. HATS OFF TO WILDE FOR THIS AMAZING PIECE.
Man, this poem gives a weird yet peaceful vibe. Just feels like your literally standing in the same spot as the words describe... who knows what the bird is feeling, though? Do birds actually feel lonely? Interesting food for thought there.