I HAVE wept a million tears:
Pure and proud one, where are thine,
What the gain though all thy years
In unbroken beauty shine?
 

All your beauty cannot win
Truth we learn in pain and sighs:
You can never enter in
To the circle of the wise.
 

They are but the slaves of light
Who have never known the gloom,
And between the dark and bright
Willed in freedom their own doom.
 

Think not in your pureness there,
That our pain but follows sin:
There are fires for those who dare
Seek the throne of might to win.
 

Pure one, from your pride refrain:
Dark and lost amid the strife
I am myriad years of pain
Nearer to the fount of life.
 

When defiance fierce is thrown
At the god to whom you bow,
Rest the lips of the Unknown
Tenderest upon my brow.

Added: May 12 2003 | Viewed: 1806 times | Comments (0)

Poet: George William Russell
Poem: 59. 59. The Man to the Angel
Volume: Collected Poems by A.E.
Year: Published/Written in 1913
Poem of the Day on:
Jul 11 2004
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, 59. The Man to the Angel, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by George William Russell with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!