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Exile
(21 July 1899 – 27 April 1932 / Garrettsville, Ohio)

Exile

Poem By Harold Hart Crane

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.

User Rating: 3,7 / 5 ( 27 votes ) 7

Other poems of CRANE (37)

Comments (7)

A most moving love poem. 'Distance again expands...as an uncoiled shell'. So true about how a man feels in the absence of his beloved.
...........very nice and wonderful when someone knows exactly what brings them happiness ★
yes, I agree, love endures...
The 2nd stanza; is hope-mystical. This is a midnight poem.
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