Poems (Van Rensselaer)/Healing
HEALING
The very stars shook in the sky,
The north wind stormed so fierce and loud;
So fast it ran, the moon swept by,
A drowning face, in floods of cloud—
So fast, so cold, that the midnight
Was full of dreams of wild affright.
(Love, did I lose thee in the terror of the night?)
The north wind stormed so fierce and loud;
So fast it ran, the moon swept by,
A drowning face, in floods of cloud—
So fast, so cold, that the midnight
Was full of dreams of wild affright.
(Love, did I lose thee in the terror of the night?)
Oh, none the less there comes again
A moon so purely white and still
The stars remit their shining, fain
That hers may work its silvery will,
And winds so soft the daybreak hour
Buds to their kiss, a roseate flower.
(Love, I have seen thee, found thee, in the rose-red hour!)
A moon so purely white and still
The stars remit their shining, fain
That hers may work its silvery will,
And winds so soft the daybreak hour
Buds to their kiss, a roseate flower.
(Love, I have seen thee, found thee, in the rose-red hour!)