382
"A BUDDING MORROW."
Why should I seek and never find
That something which I have not had?
Fair and unutterably sad
The world hath sought time out of mind;
The world hath sought and I have sought,—
Ah, empty world and empty I!
For we have spent our strength for nought,
And soon it will be time to die.
That something which I have not had?
Fair and unutterably sad
The world hath sought time out of mind;
The world hath sought and I have sought,—
Ah, empty world and empty I!
For we have spent our strength for nought,
And soon it will be time to die.
Sparks fly upward toward their fount of fire,
Kindling, flashing, hovering:—
Kindle, flash, my soul; mount higher and higher,
Thou whole burnt-offering!
Kindling, flashing, hovering:—
Kindle, flash, my soul; mount higher and higher,
Thou whole burnt-offering!
"THERE IS A BUDDING MORROW IN MIDNIGHT."
WINTRY boughs against a wintry sky;
Yet the sky is partly blue
And the clouds are partly bright:—
Who can tell but sap is mounting high
Out of sight,
Ready to burst through?
Yet the sky is partly blue
And the clouds are partly bright:—
Who can tell but sap is mounting high
Out of sight,
Ready to burst through?
Winter is the mother-nurse of Spring,
Lovely for her daughter's sake,
Not unlovely for her own:
For a future buds in everything;
Grown, or blown,
Or about to break.
Lovely for her daughter's sake,
Not unlovely for her own:
For a future buds in everything;
Grown, or blown,
Or about to break.
