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...BEETHOVEN'S THIRD SYMPHONY by RICHARD HOVEY VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1883 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI REVELATION by ROBERT PENN WARREN PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 44. ALLAH-AL-RAKIB by EDWIN ARNOLD FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: LOVE IS WISER THAN AMBITION by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |