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1886–1950

IV

William Rose Benét

Base rewards and glamours, the beating tide of hours, The crying and clamors and the surge of silent powers Pass me and pass me now. Silently I go The one road, the only road I know.

Oh, bare and bright as dreams And laced with silver streams Lies the land on either hand, past the darkness and dread. Though a man must grip his soul lest it start from all control,

And must bow his head. Where are your footprints on air that I may find them? Where your radiant garments that I may hide behind them? No, it is my own road, straight and black

That turns not back. I will search till the darkness sears on either hand With the drifting sparkles of some fiery brand, Of some pain that lights me nearer to the land of your endeavor.

I will search forever. The torrent of the hours like a veil veiling heaven, The war with bitter powers — I am given. But light that you left me — light, your own decision,

Your secret and your vision. Time? What is Time now. Standing to the thong And the dream that is passing, time is not long. And I shall find the valley past the mountains that defeat me,

And see you come to meet me.

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IV · William Rose Benét · Poetry Cove