THERE come dull days in love's clear atmosphere, <br /> When clouds and doubt obscure the wide expanse. <br /> The woods are still; no songs of birds entrance; <br />No sunlight falls, and desolate and drear, <br />As if harmonious with the lurking fear <br />5 <br /> Which sucks love's peace, the leaden waves that glance <br /> From rock-bound coast the general gloom enhance; <br />And spectral winds are wailing far and near. <br />When suddenly, and oft in darkest hour, <br /> I hear some strain of music, or some voice, <br />10 <br /> Or some of thy drear writing chance I see, <br />When, lo! The spell is broken, and the power <br /> Of darkness, earth, and sea, and sky rejoice, <br /> And all my being thrills with songs of thee.<br /><br />Frederick George Scott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-s-shadows/
