 | Poems |  |
130
TO A BLIND LADY.
Though beggared of the inheritance of light,
The glorious eye-possession of the earth;
Be thankful still: how few of those with sight
Can feel or use their privilege aright?
A soul undimmed is of far greater worth;
Outweighs a million times the deepest dearth
Of flower-frail sense,—and when from this short night
It shall emerge, how wonderful the Birth!
The glorious eye-possession of the earth;
Be thankful still: how few of those with sight
Can feel or use their privilege aright?
A soul undimmed is of far greater worth;
Outweighs a million times the deepest dearth
Of flower-frail sense,—and when from this short night
It shall emerge, how wonderful the Birth!
Emerge, as one who whilst he slowly strains
Up a dark narrow tower with sigh on sigh,
The fresh and brilliant air suddenly gains,—
And lo! created instantaneously,
A sunbright world far stretching to the sky;
Woods, Lakes, and Rivers; Valleys, Hills, and Plains.
Up a dark narrow tower with sigh on sigh,
The fresh and brilliant air suddenly gains,—
And lo! created instantaneously,
A sunbright world far stretching to the sky;
Woods, Lakes, and Rivers; Valleys, Hills, and Plains.
| Poems | |