 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
96
TO PHILIP MARSTON.
To walk in darkness through the sunlit wood,
And know no leaves but dead ones on the ground,
While Spring's young green is waving all around,
And joyous Nature spurns her widowhood;
And know no leaves but dead ones on the ground,
While Spring's young green is waving all around,
And joyous Nature spurns her widowhood;
To have no share in each successive mood
Of wayward Day, by Night for ever bound;
To know the Morn but by the growing sound,
Eve by its chill, not by its Sunset flood:
Of wayward Day, by Night for ever bound;
To know the Morn but by the growing sound,
Eve by its chill, not by its Sunset flood:
Such is thy portion in this world of light,
Where only voices—more like souls set free
Than living men—surround thee in thy plight.
Where only voices—more like souls set free
Than living men—surround thee in thy plight.
God said from out the Darkness, ‘Let Light be’;
And Day sprang dazzling from the lap of Night.
Alas, my Friend, He said it not for thee.
And Day sprang dazzling from the lap of Night.
Alas, my Friend, He said it not for thee.
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |