FOG-WREATHS of doubt in blinding eddies drifted, Whirlwinds of fancy, countergusts of thought, Shadowless shadows where warm lives were sought, Numb feet, that feel not their own tread, uplifted On clouds of formless wonder, lightning-rifted! What marvel that the whole world's life should seem, To helpless intellect, a Brahma-dream, From which the real and restful is out-sifted? Through the dim storm a white peace-bearing Dove Gleams, and the mist rolls back, the shadows flee, The dream is past. A clear calm sky above, Firm rock beneath; a royal-scrolled tree, And One, thorn-diademed, the King of Love, The Son of God who gave Himself for me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 49 by PHILIP SIDNEY IDYLLS OF THE KING: DEDICATION by ALFRED TENNYSON NORTHERN FARMER, OLD STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 98. AL-RASCHID by EDWIN ARNOLD THE FROZEN GRAIL (TO PEARY AND HIS MEN) by ELSA BARKER SONNET by ETIENNE DE LA BOETIE ADDRESSED TO A LADY by ROBERT BURNS |