In thought's black caves the wanderer cries: "Bring forth a light to feed mine eyes, That on the husks of darkness starve! The light! the light! O God, the Wise!" And then the Voice speaks, calm and low: "My son, thine eyes would perish so; The light is fierce and blinds the weak. Grope with thy hands and thou shalt know!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW THE MAN TO BE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SENRYU: BLIND DATE by TIMOTHY LIU STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR THE AWAKENING RIVER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |