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 | Poems and Dramas by "Fiona MacLeod" (William Sharp) |  |
248
VALE, AMOR!
We do not know this thing
By the spoken word:
It is as though in a dim wood
One heard a bird
Suddenly sing:
Then, in the twinkling of an eye
A shadow glooms the earth and sky,
And we stand silent, startled, in a changed mood.
By the spoken word:
It is as though in a dim wood
One heard a bird
Suddenly sing:
Then, in the twinkling of an eye
A shadow glooms the earth and sky,
And we stand silent, startled, in a changed mood.
It is but a little thing
The leaping sword,
When in the startled silence of changed mood
It comes as when a bird
Doth suddenly sing.
But thrust of sword or agony of soul
Are alike swift and terrible and strong,
And no foot stirs the dead leaves of that silent wood.
The leaping sword,
When in the startled silence of changed mood
It comes as when a bird
Doth suddenly sing.
But thrust of sword or agony of soul
Are alike swift and terrible and strong,
And no foot stirs the dead leaves of that silent wood.
| Poems and Dramas by "Fiona MacLeod" (William Sharp) | |