In Divers Tones

by Charles G.D. Roberts

Edited by Tracy Ware


 

IMPULSE


 

A hollow on the verge of May,
   Thick strewn with drift of leaves. Beneath
   The densest drift a thrusting sheath
Of sharp green striving toward the day!
   I mused—“So dull Obstruction sets
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   A bar to even violets,
When these would go their nobler way!”

My feet again, some days gone by,
   The self-same spot sought idly. There,
   Obstruction foiled, the adoring air

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Caressed a blossom woven of sky
   And dew, whose misty petals blue,
   With bliss of being thrilled athrough,
Dilated like a timorous eye.

Reck well this rede, my soul! The good

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   The blossom craved was near, tho’ hid.
   Fret not that thou must doubt, but rid
Thy sky-path of obstruction strewed
   By winds of folly. Then, do thou
   The Godward impulse room allow
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To reach its perfect air and food!