----------November----- Are thine eyes weary? ------is thy heart ----too sick----- To struggle------ any more ----with doubt ---and--- thought--, Whose formless veil----- draws darkening now -----and thick----- Across thee------, een as smoke-tinged mist-wreaths brought----- Down a fair dale -----to make it ----blind ----and---- nought? Art thou so weary -------that no world there seems---- Beyond these four walls-----------, hung with pain and dreams-----? Look out upon the real world------, where the moon------, Halfway-------- twixt root and crown of these high trees--------, Turns the dead midnight ----------into dreamy noon---------, Silent-------- and full of wonders---------, for ----the breeze Died at sunset-----, and no images-------, No hopes of day----, are left in sky or earth --------- Is it not fair------, and of most wondrous worth-----? Yea-----, I have looked------, and seen -----November there-----; The changeless seal of change -----it seemed to be----, Fair death of things that----, living once-----, were fair; Bright sign of loneliness------ too great for me------, Strange image of the----- dread eternity-----, In whose void patience----- how can these have part-----, These outstretched feverish hands------, this----- restless heart-----????????
Posted on: Fri, 01 Nov 2013 13:36:02 +0000
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