 | Poems by James Rhoades |  |
134
XX.
[Dark Spirit, oh listen! thou that fiercely flowest]
Dark Spirit, oh listen! thou that fiercely flowest,So fierce, and so impatient to be gone!
Is it fear, or some wild vengeance that thou owest?
Or doth the fiend of madness drive thee on?
Nay—for that stormy heart has been my own—
Thou art full of glorious passion from the hills,
And in thy strength goest forth to conquer ills,
Not thinking how thou must be overthrown.
Yet chafe not, noble river, nor seek to mend
God's purpose in thee and thine own far end,
Lest those proud waves o'erflow in sluggish mire:
His be the grief, who would not brook control,
Within whose heart has ceased the great desire,
And stagnant are the waters of his soul.
| Poems by James Rhoades | |