. The new day, a poem in songs and sonnets . ed!My praise thou hast made my blame; My best thou hast made my worst;My good thou hast turned to shame; My drink is a flaming thirst. But scarce my prayer was said Ere firom that place I turned;I trembled, I hung my head, My cheek, shame-smitten, burned :For there where I bowed down In my boastful agony,I thought of thy cross and crown,— O Christ! I remembered thee. 32 THE NEW DAY. VII. LOVES CRUELTY. And this, then, is thy love, I hear thee say, And dost thou love, and canst thou torture so ?Ah, spare me, if thou lovst me, this last I am n
. The new day, a poem in songs and sonnets . ed!My praise thou hast made my blame; My best thou hast made my worst;My good thou hast turned to shame; My drink is a flaming thirst. But scarce my prayer was said Ere firom that place I turned;I trembled, I hung my head, My cheek, shame-smitten, burned :For there where I bowed down In my boastful agony,I thought of thy cross and crown,— O Christ! I remembered thee. 32 THE NEW DAY. VII. LOVES CRUELTY. And this, then, is thy love, I hear thee say, And dost thou love, and canst thou torture so ?Ah, spare me, if thou lovst me, this last I am not my own; I must obey My master; I am slave to Love ; his swayIs cruel as the grave. When he says Go,I go; when he says Come, I come. I knowNo law but his. When he says Slay, I slay. As cruel as the grave Yes—crueller. Cruel as light that pours its stinging floodAcross the dark, and makes an anguished stir Of life. Cruel as life that sends through bloodOf mortal the immortal pang and as thy remorseless maidenhood. THE cloud was thick that hid the sun from sightAnd over all a shadowy roof outspread,Making the day dim with another night—Not dark like that which passed, but oh! more dreadFor the clear sunlight that had gone beforeAnd prophecy of that which yet should snow at night the wind-blown hills of sandShone with an inward light far down the land:Beneath the lowering sky black was the seaAcross whose waves a bird came flying low —Borne swift on the wind with wing-beat halt and slow—?From out the dull east toward the foamy was an awful waiting in the earthAs if a mystery greatened to its birth:Though late it seemed, the day was just begunWhen lo ! at last, the many-colored bowStood in the heavens over against the sun. 35 PART III.
Size: 2923px × 855px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublishernewyorkcscribnerss
