POEMS
LUX E TENEBRIS
DAY dies; and Night, its mourner,
Wrapp'd in sombre robes of woe,
Enthrals us with the mystery
Of her mission here below.
Wrapp'd in sombre robes of woe,
Enthrals us with the mystery
Of her mission here below.
Filling our souls with yearning
For a higher life than ours,
And crying still the warning
That our stay is but of hours.
For a higher life than ours,
And crying still the warning
That our stay is but of hours.
I listen to her teaching,
And I rise to kiss her feet;
But from beside her, Memory
Comes, and chains me to my seat.
And I rise to kiss her feet;
But from beside her, Memory
Comes, and chains me to my seat.
Unbidden rise before me
Mocking phantoms of the past:
They shiver me, they chill me
With the shadows that they cast.
Mocking phantoms of the past:
They shiver me, they chill me
With the shadows that they cast.
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