Holy of holies Confessions of an anarchist [by J. E. Barlas] |
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19
XV.
[When jarring natures cross my loftier mood]
When jarring natures cross my loftier mood,And shatter all my golden dream to dust;
When acid friendships eat my heart like rust,
And shallow hatred feeding on love's food;
When some mean tongue in viper's juice imbrued
Has tainted me; when selfishness and lust
Brew for my lips their rank and bloody must,
Where I sought sympathy and womanhood;
Ah then I sigh and say the fault is mine,
Who am not sated with one sympathy,
Though of the noblest woman earth can bear.
Not so, not so. Shine out, sweet star, but shine,
And I am safe. But thou art set so high
Faith cannot trust itself remembered there.
Sep. 7th, 1885.
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