The splendour of the kindling day, <br /> The splendor of the setting sun, <br /> These move my soul to wend its way, <br /> And have done <br />With all we grasp and toil amongst and say. <br /> <br /> The paling roses of a cloud, <br /> The fading bow that arches space, <br /> These woo my fancy toward my shroud, <br /> Toward the place <br />Of faces veil’d, and heads discrown’d and bow’d. <br /> <br /> The nation of the awful stars, <br /> The wandering star whose blaze is brief, <br /> These make me beat against the bars <br /> Of my grief; <br />My tedious grief, twin to the life it mars. <br /> <br /> O fretted heart toss’d to and fro, <br /> So fain to flee, so fain to rest! <br /> All glories that are high or low, <br /> East or west, <br />Grow dim to thee who art so fain to go.<br /><br />Christina Georgina Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fluttered-wings/
