THE WIND OF SORROW
by: Henry van Dyke (1852-1933)
- HE fire of love was burning, yet
so low
- That in the dark we scarce could see its rays,
- And in the light of perfect-placid days
- Nothing but smouldering embers dull and slow.
- Vainly, for love's delight, we sought to throw
- New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze:
- In life's calm air and tranquil prosperous ways
- We missed the radiant heat of long ago.
- Then in the night, a night of sad alarms,
- Bitter with pain and black with fog of fears,
- That drove us trembling to each other's arms--
- Across the gulf of darkness and salt tears,
- Into life's calm the wind of sorrow came,
- And fanned the fire of love to clearest flame.
"The Wind of Sorrow" is
reprinted from The Little Book of American Poets: 1787-1900.
Ed. Jessie B. Rittenhouse. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1915. |
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POEMS BY HENRY VAN DYKE |
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