BY the dark stillness brooding in the sky, Holiest of sufferers! round thy path of woe, And by the weight of mortal agony Laid on thy drooping form and pale meek brow, My heart was awed: the burden of thy pain Sank on me with a mystery and a chain. I looked once more -- and, as the virtue shed Forth from thy robe of old, so fell a ray Of victory from thy mien; and round thy head, The halo, melting spirit-like away, Seemed of the very soul's bright rising born, To glorify all sorrow, shame, and scorn. And upwards, through transparent darkness gleaming, Gazed in mute reverence woman's earnest eye, Lit, as a vase whence inward light is streaming, With quenchless faith, and deep love's fervency, Gathering, like incense round some dimveiled shrine, About the form, so mournfully divine! Oh! let thine image, as e'en then it rose, Live in my soul for ever, calm and clear, Making itself a temple of repose, Beyond the breath of human hope or fear! A holy place, where through all storms may lie One living beam of dayspring from on high. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT THING A BIRD WOULD LOVE by ROBERT FROST ON A PALMETTO by SIDNEY LANIER JUNIUS BRUTUS BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE SNOW-STORM by RALPH WALDO EMERSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 36 by JAMES JOYCE THE CROSS OF SNOW by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |