Poems (Sackville)/Weakness
WEAKNESS
He was not strong enough to break away From ignorant bonds which hinder men and blindTo snap the prison-bars of yesterday, Or curb the natural follies of mankind.
Nature and Beauty called to him, but here Old thoughts and aspirations bound him still—Abortive hopes, and dreams confused and sere Darkened the vague horizon of his will.
Part of eternal Beauty—crowned with light— A thought of God—even thus and thus his soul Conceived itself—but subtle hands of night Wove webs of shadow and obscured the whole.
He heard the ages calling, and the skies And mountains and, to greet him, song on songOf deathless poets, crowned with music, rise— Yet swooned midst clashing chords of right and wrong.
He sang; one moment strong, with gasping breath, Rose high, then gazed where yet his prison lay,Grew faint to see what torture stretched beneath— Fell; and his chains cling closer day by day.