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...BUCOLIC COMEDY: FOX TROT by EDITH SITWELL AFTER A VISIT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO ALFRED TENNYSON by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD MORNING by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS LINES TO HANNAH AND PHOEBE by BERNARD BARTON THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER (DEDICATED TO MISS ELLA F. KENNEDY) by SARA S. BASHEFKIN |