XVSIGHT
Why should we limit beauty with our eye,
Bolted within the prison of our sight,
Catching a tiny fragment of the sky,
Calling each flare of unseen sunrise, night?
Bolted within the prison of our sight,
Catching a tiny fragment of the sky,
Calling each flare of unseen sunrise, night?
Why should the fading primrose at our feet
Toll the dim curfew of a dying spring;
Why should each loveliness we know defeat
The ardent beauty of an unknown thing?
Toll the dim curfew of a dying spring;
Why should each loveliness we know defeat
The ardent beauty of an unknown thing?
Why can we not see roses in the snow,
The roses burning crimson in the white?
Why does our vision, sensible and slow,
Instead of leading, dully follow sight?
The roses burning crimson in the white?
Why does our vision, sensible and slow,
Instead of leading, dully follow sight?
When in the tumbling riot of September
The forest fires of colour sweep each wood,
Our dim entangled eyesight can remember
No frozen beauty of a winter's mood.
The forest fires of colour sweep each wood,
Our dim entangled eyesight can remember
No frozen beauty of a winter's mood.
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