 | Irish Poems |  |
100
THE NIGHT COMETH
Deeper and deeper grows the shade,
It will be dark ere evening come;
Yet shall my heart be not dismayed
If Thou art with me in the gloom.
It will be dark ere evening come;
Yet shall my heart be not dismayed
If Thou art with me in the gloom.
What though the faces grow more dim,
The kind and friendly faces all,
If Thou, girt by the Cherubim,
Should'st walk with me at evenfall?
The kind and friendly faces all,
If Thou, girt by the Cherubim,
Should'st walk with me at evenfall?
What though Thy hills die off in mist,
Thy sky, Thy stars, Thy night, Thy morn—
Though grey be rose and amethyst
And of earth's glory I am shorn?
Thy sky, Thy stars, Thy night, Thy morn—
Though grey be rose and amethyst
And of earth's glory I am shorn?
What if Thy face should rise upon
My starless night and I should see
Its beauty more than moon and sun
Lighting my darkness wonderfully?
My starless night and I should see
Its beauty more than moon and sun
Lighting my darkness wonderfully?
101
What if this beauteous world Thou'st wrought
Were but a maze where I should stray
And lose Thee,—losing Thee have naught!
Let night fall on Thy world and day?
Were but a maze where I should stray
And lose Thee,—losing Thee have naught!
Let night fall on Thy world and day?
Oh, if in clouds of blackest night
Groping I find Thy fingers kind,
Thine eyes turn all my darkness light:
Star of my blindness, be I blind!
Groping I find Thy fingers kind,
Thine eyes turn all my darkness light:
Star of my blindness, be I blind!
| Irish Poems | |