 | The Poems of A. C. Benson |  |
279
IN THE DAWN
Some souls have quickened, eye to eye,
And heart to heart, and hand in hand;
The swift fire leaps, and instantly
They understand.
And heart to heart, and hand in hand;
The swift fire leaps, and instantly
They understand.
Henceforth they can be cold no more;
Woes there may be,—ay, tears and blood,
But not the numbness, as before
They understood.
Woes there may be,—ay, tears and blood,
But not the numbness, as before
They understood.
Henceforth, he saith, though ages roll
Across wild wastes of sand and brine,
Whate'er betide, one human soul
Is knit with mine.
Across wild wastes of sand and brine,
Whate'er betide, one human soul
Is knit with mine.
Whatever joy be dearly bought,
Whatever hope my blossom stirs,
The straitest cell of secret thought
Is wholly hers.
Whatever hope my blossom stirs,
The straitest cell of secret thought
Is wholly hers.
Ay, were we parted, life would be
A helpless, heartless flight along
Blind tracks in vales of misery
And sloughs of wrong.
A helpless, heartless flight along
Blind tracks in vales of misery
And sloughs of wrong.
280
Nay, God forgive me! Life would roll
Like some dim moon through cloudy bars;
But to have loved her sets my soul
Among the stars.
Like some dim moon through cloudy bars;
But to have loved her sets my soul
Among the stars.
| The Poems of A. C. Benson | |