My Comforter
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- Well hast thou spoken, and yet not taught
- A feeling strange or new;
- Thou hast but roused a latent thought,
- A cloud-closed beam of sunshine brought
- To gleam in open view.
- Deep down, concealed within my soul,
- That light lies hid from men;
- Yet glows unquenched--though shadows roll,
- Its gentle ray cannot control--
- About the sullen den.
- Was I not vexed, in these gloomy ways
- To walk alone so long?
- Around me, wretches uttering praise,
- Or howling o'er their hopeless days,
- And each with Frenzy's tongue;--
- A brotherhood of misery,
- Their smiles as sad as sighs;
- Whose madness daily maddened me,
- Distorting into agony
- The bliss before my eyes!
- So stood I, in Heaven's glorious sun,
- And in the glare of Hell;
- My spirit drank a mingled tone,
- Of seraph's song, and demon's moan;
- What my soul bore, my soul alone
- Within itself may tell!
- Like a soft, air above a sea,
- Tossed by the tempest's stir;
- A thaw-wind, melting quietly
- The snow-drift on some wintry lea;
- No: what sweet thing resembles thee,
- My thoughtful Comforter?
- And yet a little longer speak,
- Calm this resentful mood;
- And while the savage heart grows meek,
- For other token do not seek,
- But let the tear upon my cheek
- Evince my gratitude!
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