Get Your Premium Membership

Exile

 My hands have not touched pleasure since your hands, --
No, -- nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell',
And with the day, distance again expands
Voiceless between us, as an uncoiled shell.
Yet, love endures, though starving and alone.
A dove's wings clung about my heart each night With surging gentleness, and the blue stone Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright.

Poem by Hart Crane
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - ExileEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...



More Poems by Hart Crane

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Exile

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Exile here.

Commenting turned off, sorry.