The Soul's Quest and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott




THERE come dull days in love’s clear atmosphere,
    When clouds and doubt obscure the wide expanse.
    The woods are still; no songs of birds entrance;
No sunlight falls, and desolate and drear,
As if harmonious with the lurking fear
    Which sucks love’s peace, the leaden waves that glance
    From rock-bound coast the general gloom enhance;
And spectral winds are wailing far and near.

When suddenly, and oft in darkest hour,
    I hear some strain of music, or some voice,

        Or some of thy drear writing chance I see,
When, lo! The spell is broken, and the power
    Of darkness, earth, and sea, and sky rejoice,
        And all my being thrills with songs of thee.