Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | December 28, 2008

POEM OF THE DAY: Winter Heavens

by George Meredith (1828 – 1909).

 

Winter Heavens

 

Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive

Leap off the rim of earth across the dome.

It is a night to make the heavens our home

More than the nest whereto apace we strive.

Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive,                 5

In swarms outrushing from the golden comb.

They waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam:

The living throb in me, the dead revive.

Yon mantle clothes us: there, past mortal breath,

Life glistens on the river of the death.                                        10

It folds us, flesh and dust; and have we knelt,

Or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs

Of radiance, the radiance enrings:

And this is the soul’s haven to have felt.

 

Notes:

http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/meredith/index.html

http://www.litencyc.com/php/speople.php?rec=true&UID=3086


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