Poems (Cromwell)/The Bat

by Gladys Cromwell

THE BAT

Over the river of sorrow
Spread thy drab wings wide.
Cool is the river. Glide
Between the trees. Borrow
The prudent feet of the fleeing
Beast. Thy pinions blend
With leaves. O thou All-Seeing,
Be night's obedient friend!

To a gloomy bat, all sorrow
Is cool and sombre and sweet.
So no wonder thou fearest to meet
The feline light of to-morrow.
When out from the east a glimmer
Of twilight corals thy wings,
Thy vision grows dimmer and dimmer,
Thou dreamer of dusky things!

When morning comes out from the east,
Advancing with stealthy ray,
Thy wheeling wings betray
Thy presence, Bird-and-Beast,
Soaring to dismal bowers
With smoke-like motion. Gladness,
Flame-like, heaps through the hours
Thine ashen sorrow and sadness.

Blinded by noon-day splendor,
Unseeing till darkness return,
Thy cinereous pinions yearn
For stone-colored night. Surrender
Thy spirit. Is not the sighing
Monotony sweet? Maybe
Creation is what we call dying,
As daylight is darkness to thee.