Penseur, Le

Warm in this marble, that is stone no more,

Life at wound-pause lifts ear to woundless mind;

Backward the ages their slow clew unwind,

And step by step, and star by star, lead o'er

The trail again, where eyeless passion tore

Its red way to a soul. Mist-bound and blind

No more, the thinker waits, and God grown kind

Flashes a foot-print where He goes before.

Not to be followed! Falls the cloud again;

Folds the stern form around the striving doubt,

And curve betrays to curve the silent birth

That shall be voice to later times and men;

While lone in unlit dark, within, without,

He sits immortal on a godless earth.

Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.