a connotation of infinity
sharpens the temporal splendor of this night
when souls which have forgot frivolity
in lowliness, noting the fatal flight
of worlds whereto this earth’s a hurled dream
down eager avenues of lifelessness
consider for how much themselves shall gleam,
in the poised radiance of perpetualness.
When what’s in velvet beyond doomed thought
is like a woman amorous to be known;
and man, whose here is alway worse than naught,
feels the tremendous yonder for his own-
on such a night the sea through her blind miles
of crumbling silence seriously smiles
Tags 1800-1900 American Poets Best E. E. Cummings Poems Best Poems Best Poetry Classic Poetry E. E. Cummings E. E. Cummings Poems E. E. Cummings Poetry Poems Poetry