Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/Apathy

by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis

Apathy.

It steals along the nerves,
 And touches every part;
Then snake-like winds and curves
 And twines about the heart.
It soothes the flagging pulse
 With flatteries of balm,
And drags down, to repulse
 All efforts of true calm.
It strikes with poisened tongue,
The center of the mind;
And leaves the soul among
 Old ruins—stark, and blind.