THE WINDS, the stars, and the skies though wrought
By the heavenly King yet know it not;
And man who moves in the twilight dim
Feels not the love that encircles him,
Though in heart, on bosom, and eyelids press
Lips of an infinite tenderness,
He turns away through the dark to roam
Nor heeds the fire in his hearth and home.

Added: May 12 2003 | Viewed: 1023 times | Comments (0)

Poet: George William Russell
Poem: 105. 105. Unconscious
Volume: Collected Poems by A.E.
Year: Published/Written in 1913
Poem of the Day on:
Oct 12 2003
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