THY soul, unhearing and unspeaking, In its dark forest droops to sleep, Where droves of dark desires are breaking And through the tangled brushwood sweep. To guide thee where the stars are keeping My home, I made a flame burn bright; In empty brake, in forest sleeping, I sowed the torch's seed of light. I shine, I cry to pathless spaces; In silence the numb thickets brood. Neither with men nor God thy place is, Soul, hidden in thy solitude. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PERSPECTIVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 2. THE SHIP OF EARTH by SIDNEY LANIER DOMESDAY BOOK: GOTTLIEB GERALD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS APPELLATE JURISDICTION by MARIANNE MOORE |