Oh, I am weary of a heart that brings Star-worship even to the shining sun: Rather a savage whose whole heart hath won Radiance and joy from sunlight than whose wings Flutter and fade before the twilight rings: Why should we falter when the night is done,— Dream-weavers, trembling in dim mists that stun All things divorced from thought, and thought from things? I am thy child, O Sun, as Julian was: I crouch not in the shadows of my soul, And grapple with dark terrors; nor, rewon, Drink I of darkness when the shadows pass: Even at death, when nearest is the goal, I shall cry out to heaven, “The sun! the sun!”
Collection: