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1874–1932

XVI

Robert Winkworth Norwood

All night my soul groped blindly in a dream Through mazes of a mighty corridor, Pillared between the stars; and my heart bore Its youthful sorrow, calling for the gleam

Shed from your golden body like a beam Sent from the sun — a beauty nevermore Mine to behold, to have, to cherish, for Faith's rule was ended and Doubt stood supreme!

All night my soul groped blindly till the dawn Woke on the world with matin song of birds And choral thunder of the wind upon The mountains; while the trees chanted the words

Of an old litany that cried the grief Of lovers sundered through their lost belief!

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XVI · Robert Winkworth Norwood · Poetry Cove