Explore "Remorse" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
By August von Platen
How I started up in the night, in the night, / Drawn on without rest or reprieval! / The streets, with their watchmen, were lost to my sight, / As I wandered so light / In the night, in the night, / Through the gate with the arch mediaeval.
The mill-brook rushed from the rocky height, / I leaned o'er the bridge in my yearning; / Deep under me watched I the waves in their flight, / As they glided so light / In the night, in the night, / Yet backward not one was returning.
O'erhead were revolving, so countless and bright, / The stars in melodious existence; / And with them the moon, more serenely bedight; -- / They sparkled so light / In the night, in the night, / Through the magical, measureless distance.
And upward I gazed in the night, in the night, / And again on the waves in their fleeting; / Ah woe! thou hast wasted thy days in delight, / Now silence thou light, / In the night, in the night, / The remorse in thy heart that is beating.