 | Sonnets |  |
90
BEATING THE AIR.
SONG drew the curtains of my life aside,
But left me songless ere the risen day,
When hurried heart-beats took my breath away,
And overdone with life I almost died.
Then it was laid upon me to abide
What time my thought was searched with sharp assay,
What while my will in fiery durance lay,—
All coinage of their store as yet denied.
But left me songless ere the risen day,
When hurried heart-beats took my breath away,
And overdone with life I almost died.
Then it was laid upon me to abide
What time my thought was searched with sharp assay,
What while my will in fiery durance lay,—
All coinage of their store as yet denied.
So held in silent depths my grievèd soul
Would listen to the crowned ones harping high,
And yearn to touch such gentle hearts with dole;
When at the last a kindling breath, a cry,
Unsealed my lips as if with burning coal;—
Alas! the crowned ones heard me, and passed by.
Would listen to the crowned ones harping high,
And yearn to touch such gentle hearts with dole;
When at the last a kindling breath, a cry,
Unsealed my lips as if with burning coal;—
Alas! the crowned ones heard me, and passed by.
| Sonnets | |