In Blind Dark

 

How can we see who have no vision pure

To look behind the earth's and body's veil?

Will the fire-form prepared within assure

Duration of that mould of flesh so frail?

 

A thousand murmurs darken over the cold

Still clay; and whispering doubts creep through

the air;

Do we forget the promise given of old?

Why do we tremble so, deny, despair?

 

The surging darkness from the lairs of night

Blinds all our wits; the black stone mind of fear

Has neither loving trust nor any sight,

And mud-blocked, buzzing loud, the ear cannot hear.

 

What do we do? We sacrifice to doom

Our faith, our love — our living heart entomb.

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