I SAW but once that lovely one, <br /> Nor need I see her twice to love; <br />She broke upon me like the dawn, <br /> And o'er my soul her magic wove— <br />Yea, forced the lion stern to own <br /> Himself the captive of the dove. <br /> <br />She brought the morn, she left the night; <br /> Nor strove I to throw off the chain; <br />But rather felt a sweet delight <br /> To intermingle with the pain <br />That made my heart's repose a blight, <br /> Till madness ruled my thought's domain. <br /> <br />By night I sought a solitude, <br /> And gave unto the winds a grief <br />That struggled like the lava flood, <br /> That boils and struggles for relief; <br />And night still left me in a mood <br /> Unto the voice of reason deaf. <br /> <br />The radiant planets in their flight, <br /> And she the quiet Queen of heaven, <br />With glory garmented the night; <br /> But not to them the power was given <br />To kill, but rather nurse the blight <br /> By which afar my peace was driven. <br /> <br />Yet wished I not the sun to rise, <br /> For then the world were up, and then <br />Were I exposed to wistful eyes, <br /> And questions bold of forward men, <br />Who deem themselves both good and wise, <br /> Yet neither know nor pity pain. <br /> <br />And what on earth—ay, what in hell <br /> Can be more racking to the thought, <br />Than that our pangs unspeakable <br /> Should, disregarded, be as nought <br />Or look's upon with looks that tell <br /> In vain would sympathy be sought? <br /> <br />The magic vision fled, and so <br /> Have all those precious feelings, all! <br />Which gave to life a golden glow— <br /> Which made a joy this earthly ball— <br />And now, what's left to me? what, oh! <br /> What, but a cup of very gall!<br /><br />Joseph Skipsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-vision-29/
