Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HOUSE OF THE FALSE PROPHET, by WILLIAM ROSE BENET



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THE HOUSE OF THE FALSE PROPHET, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: How strange! No light within the darkened room
Last Line: Blind of all light, empty and unrevealing!
Subject(s): Prophecy & Prophets


How strange! No light within the darkened room
No lamp to shed his hinted light, and spill
A flickering welcome on this icy sill
Where my hands rest, reaching from out the gloom?
None! All I see is shadowy as a tomb.
The glass against my forehead strikes a chill
Straight through my brain. The window glimmers still
As cold as steel, as obdurate as doom.

Ah, outer gardens of my prophet's mind,
What words ye flowered! 'Twas there I plucked such healing
Closelier I circled round his soul, to find
Its radiant inmost home; this night came stealing
Before his spirit's house, -- and know it -- blind! --
Blind of all light, empty and unrevealing!





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