My crippled sense fares bow'd along <br /> His uncompanioned way, <br />And wronged by death pays life with wrong <br />And I wake by night and dream by day. <br /> <br />And the Morning seems but fatigued Night <br /> That hath wept his visage pale, <br />And the healthy mark 'twixt dark and light <br />In sickly sameness out doth fail. <br /> <br />And the woods stare strange, and the wind is dumb, <br /> -- O Wind, pray talk again -- <br />And the Hand of the Frost spreads stark and numb <br />As Death's on the deadened window-pane. <br /> <br />Still dumb, thou Wind, old voluble friend? <br /> And the middle of the day is cold, <br />And the heart of eve beats lax i' the end <br />As a legend's climax poorly told. <br /> <br />Oh vain the up-straining of the hands <br /> In the chamber late at night, <br />Oh vain the complainings, the hot demands, <br />The prayers for a sound, the tears for a sight. <br /> <br />No word from over the starry line, <br /> No motion felt in the dark, <br />And never a day gives ever a sign <br />Or a dream sets seal with palpable mark. <br /> <br />And O my God, how slight it were, <br /> How nothing, thou All! to thee, <br />That a kiss or a whisper might fall from her <br />Down by the way of Time to me: <br /> <br />Or some least grace of the body of love, <br /> -- Mere wafture of floating-by, <br />Mere sense of unseen smiling above, <br />Mere hint sincere of a large blue eye, <br /> <br />Mere dim receipt of sad delight <br /> From Nearness warm in the air, <br />What time with the passing of the night <br />She also passed, somehow, somewhere.<br /><br />Sidney Lanier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-first-to-charlotte-cushman/
