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...FIVE EYES by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE INVOCATION [TO LOVE] by WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORNDEN TO THE MEMORY OF MR. OLDHAM by JOHN DRYDEN THE SLAVE AUCTION by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER GREAT BELL ROLAND; SUGGESTED BY PRESIDENT'S CALL VOLUNTEERS by THEODORE TILTON A BALLAD OF THE HEATHER by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |