Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE GIFT, by ALICE EWING BLACKWELL



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THE GIFT, by            
First Line: Oh the glory of high places, wind-blown
Last Line: In the glory of the morning, to height of heights I fly.
Subject(s): Silence; Thought; Thinking


OH the glory of high places, wind-blown earth and crystal sky;
The magic of the hilltops, the moving clouds and high
A sunlit hawk on quiet, slanting wings.
He drifts and curves and balances, and now my spirit flings
Aside the chains of earth, and soars up with the hawk and sings;
Oh the wonder of my passage—and the ease.

The smell of pine and water; sunlight-arrows on the trees;
Beneath, sun-shadowed amethyst and amber. Now I cease
To feel my earthly chains—my soaring soul
Beyond the sun-warmed pines, o'er flashing water seeks the goal;
Below, the white of surf, and far above the ocean's roll
The flashing white of myriad sea-gulls' wings.

On golden light of morning, I fly beyond these weary things
Of earth,—this sickness, sorrow, and the emptiness death brings,
The heavy-wingèd night whose thoughts like stifling feathers fall,
As I lie quiet, staring at the pattern on the wall,
Until with soul out-stretching, I reach a light above the pall;
In the glory of the morning, to height of heights I fly.





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