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Saturday, January 29, 2005
from Arabella Stuart
Felicia Hemans
Death - what? Is death a locked and treasured thing,
Guarded by swords of fire - a hidden spring,
A fabled fruit - that I must thus endure,
As if the world within me held no cure?
Wherefore not spread free wings? Heaven, Heaven control
These thoughts - they rush - I look into my soul
As down a gulf, and tremble at the array
Of fierce forms crowding it! Give strength to pray,
So shall their dark host pass.
posted by gbarto at 1:00 AM
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