Love
Crepuscule du Matin
From A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass (1912): Sonnets
All night I wrestled with a memory
Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought.
The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought
Its disillusion; now I only cry
For peace, for power to forget the lie
Which hope too long has whispered. So I sought
The sleep which would not come, and night was fraught
With old emotions weeping silently.
I heard your voice again, and knew the things
Which you had promised proved an empty vaunt.
I felt your clinging hands while night's broad wings
Cherished our love in darkness. From the lawn
A sudden, quivering birdnote, like a taunt.
My arms held nothing but the empty dawn.
Cite this poem
MLA
Lowell, Amy. “Crepuscule du Matin.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/lowell_a/52/.
Chicago
Lowell, Amy. “Crepuscule du Matin.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/lowell_a/52/.
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