Perpetual Light : a memorial by William Rose Benét
page 58 of 101 (57%)
page 58 of 101 (57%)
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Like to a man who stands with smoking knife
Above his dead, and sees the rising moon. UNFORGOTTEN Wakening in the night, the pain that slumber Strikes with her mace of silence dead and dumb Loomed over me and, formless, said, "I come! Bringing illusions lost beyond all number. Rigid you lie, yet for a little cumber This flaming world, where some die proudly, some Glitter like granite, or dream millenium." It left me toiled in mountainous clouds of umber. I lay sustaining all the old emotion, Numbed as beneath the blows of iron cars. Then slowly, slowly some supreme devotion Crept down, and drew me out of ageless wars, Like a dear voice heard over darkened ocean When all dim heaven is trembling into stars. THE PALE DANCER My heart's a still shore; all the golden sails are gone. A pale, silver floor in the hugeness of dawn My heart lies once more, and the little ripples beat This small, idle tune, like the fall of elves' feet, "Oh, come, airy dancer--come dance on us, Sweet!" |
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