Poems (Sharpless)/The Shadow
For works with similar titles, see The Shadow.
THE SHADOW
Clouds in the dim horizon, And clouds upon my soul,As I list to the wild grief-lulling voice Of the wind's tempestuous roll.Gray, gray is the sky above me, And gray my life appears;My lonely heart sinks cold and low With weight of unshed tears.
Want and sickness and hunger Are dogging me day by day;Real sorrows are these that no reasoning thought Of mine can chase away.See! 'tis a shadow moving Upon the white-washed wall,—A little shadow, a fleeting shadow,— Just passed, and that was all.
And within an opposite window, A form that I know, and knewIn the sunny days of my earlier life, That fleeting shadow threw.And I know that her eyes are earnest With purpose good and pure;And the Faith of Innocent Love shines forth From their clear and deep azure.
And I feel her love around me Fall still thro' the heavy air;And it soothes my wearied, worn soul Like an angel-tone of prayer.Oh! yes, and at eve she kneeleth, Raising her hands so white;My name on her lips is dwelling In her vesper prayer at night.
That shadow—'tis gone so quickly— And yet a sunny beamComes thro' the gray clouds around me, A joy-imparting gleam.For, oh! while she still can love me I'll bravely bear thro' all,And my talisman of faith shall be That shadow on the wall.