Mundi et Cordis De Rebus Sempiternis et Temporariis: Carmina. Poems and Sonnets. By Thomas Wade |
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| X. |
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| XIV. | XIV.
SOLACE. |
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| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
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| XXX. |
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| XL. |
| XLI. |
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 | Mundi et Cordis |  |
108
XIV. SOLACE.
Thou who dost slumber in dim apathy,Born of this world's unfathom'd mystery—
Where nothing sweet is tasted, not even love,
Which bitterness succeeds not; where the dove
Of dear Enjoyment, by the vulture Sorrow
Is murder'd at the heart; and hope and thought,
By their intensity to torture wrought,
But gild the brief night that hath no to-morrow—
Yet, come with me! and to the altars fleeing,
For refuge from ourselves, of Nature holy,
Let us there worship, till this gloomy being
Feel gladness lighten o'er its melancholy;
And gazing on the blue sea, rocks and sky,
Our souls gush to their God, in felt eternity!
| Mundi et Cordis | |