Quote #34
We reach vague-gesturing hands, we lift our heads, Hear sounds far off,-and dream, with quivering breath, Our curious separate ways through life and death.
More from Conrad Aiken
- The wind shrieks, the wind grieves; It dashes the leaves on walls, it whirls then again; And the enormous sleeper vaguely and stupidly drea…
- We rub the darkness from our eyes, And face our thousand devious secret mornings . . . And do not see how the pale mist, slowly ascending, …
- 'I bound her to me in all soft ways, I bound her to me in a net of days, Yet now she has gone in silence and said no word. How can we face …
- Each gleaming point of light is like a seed Dilating swiftly to coiling fires. Each cloud becomes a rapidly dimming face, Each hurrying fac…
- My veins are afire with music, Her eyes have kissed me, my body is turned to light; I shall dream to her secret heart tonight...
- More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed- Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in high pale sunlight With gull…
- Weave, weave, weave, you streaks of rain! I am dissolved and woven again... Thousands of faces rise and vanish before me. Thousands of voic…
- Something had changed-but it was not the street- The street was just the same-it was himself.