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 | The poems of Trumbull Stickney |  |
179
XIII
PARDON
I dreamed that I was blind and you were mine;And for that I had spoiled your better part,
Did iron shame and frenzy pace my heart
Like wolves. Yet sweeter ne'er the sun did shine,
The swaying flowers, the colours vespertine
And the strange quietude of human art.
In my dead eyes I felt the water start
And falling down I prayed: “If I am thine,
That here within thy shadow I am well
And live so in the nearness of thy soul,
Forgive me that I linger in thy sight!
Forgive that up the cliffs of heaven I stole
And at the brink seized thee and with thee fell
Backward and down the oceans of the night.”
| The poems of Trumbull Stickney | |