Poems (Bushnell)/In the Dark

by Frances Louisa Bushnell

For works with similar titles, see In the Dark.

III IN THE DARK

Restless, to-night, and ill at ease, And finding every place too strait,I leave the porch shut in with trees, And wander through the garden-gate.

So dark at first, I have to feel My way before me with my hands;But soul-like fragrances reveal My virgin Daphne, where she stands.

Her stars of blossom breathe aloft Her worship to the stars above;In wavering pulsations soft, Climbs the sweet incense of her love;

Those far, celestial eyes can dart Their glances down through leafy bars;The spark that burns within her heart Was dropped, in answer, from the stars.

She does not find the space too small,  The night too dark, for sweetest bloom; Content within the garden wall,  Since upward there is always room.

Her spotless heart, through all the night,  Holds safe its little vestal spark. O blessed, if the soul be white,  To breathe and blossom in the dark!