Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, IN DARKNESS LOST, by EVA MARTIN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IN DARKNESS LOST, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: To learn to live in darkness! This is now
Last Line: So let me sleep, and dream of summer suns.


TO learn to live in darkness! This is now
My task, and I, who have so loved the sun,
Shall see no more its kindly golden light
Falling on land and sea in glorious flood.
With all the strength of a man's heart I loved
Mountains and rivers, lakes, and singing trees,
Deep beds of purple heather on blown hills,
And painted woods in autumn. Can I learn
To live in blindness? Never more to see
The cowslip dancing in the April fields,
The slim, wild hyacinth pealing bells of blue
When May's faint, fairy breezes are at play?
Oh! never more to see the laughing waves,
White-tipped, curl over to imprint a kiss
Upon the cool, gold sand; and never more
To watch the waters romp through sunny hours,
Or dash themselves in fury on great rocks
When winter's hurricanes make black the sky. ...
I still can hear—and sound is beautiful.
I still can touch: and scents are lovely too.
I still can dream of colour and of form,
Can picture beauties stored in memory—
But, oh, to see the sunlight on the may!
To find the first star-haunted primroses
In quiet woods, where only sigh of tree
And call of bird is heard from dawn to dark,
And dark to dawn! To watch the white, light clouds
Race o'er the blue field of an April sky!
To note the blackness of bare winter trees
Against a rose-red sunset, or to gaze
Across still wastes of pure, unbroken snow! ...
No more of this for me. There is no hope,
Though I am young and have not seen my share
Of all the beauties of our shining earth. ...
I know the night has fallen now. I hear
The soft, spring rain caress the sleeping trees,
While far away the slow, incoming tide
Creeps round black rocks and into little pools,
Lifts fronds of seaweed, sways them forward, then
Retires and croons a low, enchanting song;
Sweeps on again with louder singing, and
With each swift rush draws nearer to its goal...
Sleep holds the house. The world is very still—
Yet in the tree outside my window, hark!
One bird awakes, stirs, twitters, finds the night
Is dark and wet—and so to sleep again.
But sleep comes not to me. ... There is one way,
One only way to evade my bitter fate. ...
There is one way—it lies here in my hand,
Smooth steel, and cold, and death within its heart. ...
Oh, to escape this all-enfolding dark!
Night all around me, pressing on my eyes,
And deepest night of all in my dumb heart—
I cannot bear it. ... Yet ... there breaks a light,
A light upon my blinded eyes! I see,
I see as in a dream, faces of men
Who learned to live in darkness long ago.
A great musician—one who loved sweet sounds
Beyond all else; a poet, who found joy
In running lines and cadences of words;
A painter who loved colour as his soul—
Yet learned to live without it. And I see
Others innumerable; lesser men
Who all loved sunshine and the glowing world
Even as I too loved them. Yet each one
Has stood the test that seemed too hard for me.
Too hard, my friends? Your lighted faces fade,
But in my heart fresh fires of courage burn.
I will despair no more, for now I know
That light and beauty will return at last,
And darkness be forgotten, like a dream. ...
So let me sleep, and dream of summer suns.





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