 | Anne Evans: Poems and Music |  |
38
Lucid Intervals.
Some fragment of the Beautiful, some rayRefracted from the Truth he fails to find,
Care's very slave may hoard within his mind:
Some prison-plant, wan for the want of day.
And there are times when he would thrust away
His vaunted lore of base and narrow kind,
His crampèd fancy piteously inclined
In wider and in loftier paths to stray:
When he, the strong adept in worldly art,
Would court the simpler man he shunned before,
To him disclose a long-forgotten heart,
Through mere neglect grown timid, and deplore,
As in a trance from all his life apart,
Those earthly bonds which bind him more and more!
| Anne Evans: Poems and Music | |