  Why this return? Why this sunlight When all seemed without sun? Whence this call? I cannot tell, Yet its mighty thralls. Hold me, haunt me Hour after hour, With its name of thee. All seems ended, The last light lost In the house of the dead. Yet with time's tide Rises thy face, My heart, my soul, my bride. Though poureth the rain, And sorrow clouds my sky, Yet not mine the pain. What I hear I can not tell, And what I fear, Will not endure: But thou returnest, O serene, O silent, O pure! |
|
