-
“I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day”
- I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
- What hours, O what black hoürs we have spent
- This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
- And more must, in yet longer light’s delay.
- With witness I speak this. But where I say
- Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
- Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
- To dearest him that lives alas! away.
- I am gall, I am heartburn. God’s most deep decree
- Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
- Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
- Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
- The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
- As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.
