THERE is a time, when all the heart is dumb, Too tired for dread of ill, or hope of good; When o'er dull brain and heavy eyelids brood Shades of dead grief, endured and overcome, Whose ghostly presence lingering doth benumb The constant soul, that gazed with hardihood On living evil: in this twilight mood Even the sun and wind are wearisome. Yet is their flickering strife but joy begun; For e'en the spectral shades grow faintly bright, Like night-born mist, half kindled by the sun: Then shut not out the breeze, nor bar the light; Full noon shall glow for him, who will not shun Heaven's dazzling joy-break, though tears cloud his sight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLACE FOR A THIRD by ROBERT FROST EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 5. THE DANCING GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |