Wednesday, May 19, 2021

Poem a Day 19


The solemn scene is musing on the mind,
the world is brooding on the soul;
in its calm delight we find
a vision of the whole.

In dark unfathomed deeps
walled about by hedge of clouds
we see the vault, the stars it keeps,
where distance on distance crowds.

The wind in silence rolls along
like wheels on driving roads;
the stars in endless army-throng
pierce abyss, as sharp as goads.

In blue-black sea the moon sets sail
above our heads where clouds divide,
and shine on pilgrims on the trail
as beams on beams upon them glide.

Ground uncheckered, so deep its shade,
is lit by feeble light;
the sky with cloud is overlaid,
a dark and gauzy veil of night.