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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
246
AN OPEN DOOR.
City, of thine a single, simple door,
By some new Power reduplicate must be
Even yet my life-porch in eternity.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
By some new Power reduplicate must be
Even yet my life-porch in eternity.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
That longed-for door stood open, and he passed
On through the star-sown fields of light, and stayed
Before its threshold, glad and unafraid,
Since all that Life or Death could do at last
Was over, and the hour so long forecast
Had brought his footsteps thither. Undismayed
He entered. Were his lips on her lips laid?
God knows. They met, and their new day was vast:
On through the star-sown fields of light, and stayed
Before its threshold, glad and unafraid,
Since all that Life or Death could do at last
Was over, and the hour so long forecast
Had brought his footsteps thither. Undismayed
He entered. Were his lips on her lips laid?
God knows. They met, and their new day was vast:
Night shall not darken it, nor parting blight:
“Whatever is to know,” they know it now:
He comes to her with laurel on his brow,
Hero and conqueror from his life's fierce fight,
And Longing is extinguished in Delight,—
“I still am I,” his eyes say, “Thou art thou!”
“Whatever is to know,” they know it now:
He comes to her with laurel on his brow,
Hero and conqueror from his life's fierce fight,
And Longing is extinguished in Delight,—
“I still am I,” his eyes say, “Thou art thou!”
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |