Poems (Bushnell)/The Rift of Gold
XVIITHE RIFT OF GOLD
Dark clouds the heavenly blue infold, But on the sunset rifted lie,And frame, with rim of shining gold, A width of open sky.
It hangs, an outlook calm and blest; A broad, unhindered upward way,To warmer realms and lands of rest, Mid waveless floods of day.
We reach far out beyond the rift, And long to follow or to hold;But eastward whirls the ceaseless drift, To depths of night and cold.
Yet souls fly out and up, so far, They have no need of earthly light,Or flame of heaven-enkindled star, To solace darkest night.
Past sun and stars; in deeps behind These trailing clouds and lower cold,May he who looks forever find The open rift of gold.