Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LIMITATIONS, by MARCUS S. C. RICKARDS



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LIMITATIONS, by                    
First Line: Thou cravest sympathy yet never think
Last Line: How much I dwarfed and wronged thy nature here below!
Subject(s): Earth; Hope; Sympathy; Truth; World; Optimism; Empathy


THOU cravest sympathy? Yet never think
It wafts us past the brink
Of the dark gulf that parts
The mysteries of even wedded hearts:
Love's utter spell no potency imparts
That solemn deep to bridge,
And can but guide the spirit to its border ridge.

And there they peer at vision's utmost bourn,
Two baffled souls forlorn,
Each on opposing height,
No Pisgah with the Promised Land in sight,
But shrouded in the mists of hopeless Night,
Till sadly they retreat
Back to the sunny realm where thoughts and feelings meet.

For there at least awaits them the sweet boon
Of shadowless commune:
There each can think and say,
And both shall mingle in divinest play,
For naught is dim, since all is golden Day.
Fair hope! yet is it so?
We who have lingered longest sadly murmur "No."

Perchance 'mid lonely acres may be found
One rood of common ground,
One happy trysting place
Where hot emotions rushing in embrace
To fondly mingle for a little space:
And Earth has naught of bliss
Compared with what is born of interflow like this.

But back too soon upon the lonely plain
We seek to blend, in vain;
And things that flame one breast
Chill like spent embers fallen from the rest:
Few glowing thoughts and fancies when confessed
Meet with responsive fire;
So private is the vision, the creation, the desire!

So secret too the joy, the grief, the hope,
That Truth scarce finds due scope
For play! We talk and smile
Yet feel we skate on thinnest ice the while:
Anon the plunge -- and rescued hearts beguile
The hour that promised fair
For weighty fond converse, with trifles light as air.

We reason oft, we wage a war of words,
That shames the strife of birds
Who on sad autumn eves
Hold shrill discussion 'mid the fading leaves;
But do we argue for what each believes?
Nay; rampant 'mid the tide
Of repartee are vanity, self-love and pride.

And there are things whereof the shy heart dreams,
Unutterable themes,
Shunned skilfully by each
Amid the eddying babble of that stream of speech,
Like half-hid boulders in a brooklet's reach
Round which the waters swirl
A moment, to flow blithely on in silvery purl.

And will it ever be, my wistful Friend,
That ampler sense shall lend
Our spirits insight true
To pierce each other's being thro' and thro'?
I doubt not then that to my ravished view
Undreamt of wealth will show
How much I dwarfed and wronged thy nature here below!





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