THOUGH your eyes with tears were blind,
Pain upon the path you trod:
Well we knew, the hosts behind,
Voice and shining of a god.
 

For your darkness was our day:
Signal fires, your pains untold
Lit us on our wandering way
To the mystic heart of gold.
 

Naught we knew of the high land,
Beauty burning in its spheres;
Sorrow we could understand
And the mystery told in tears.

Added: on February 27th, 2005 at 6:45 AM | Viewed: 2128 times | Comments (1)

Poet: George William Russell
Poem: 102. 102. A Leader
Volume: Collected Poems by A.E.
Year: Published/Written in 1913

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