George Sterling

(1869-1926 / United States)

The Ideal - Poem by George Sterling

Red, in what maze of indecisive war,
Sought I thy dooming beauty in the past?
For as a light from firmaments o'ercast,
Or pharos high on Death's forgotten shore,
Thou flamest on my soul for evermore.
Thy burning eyes unsearchable outlast
All suns and furies of the cosmic Vast—
The stars supreme that Night to Godhood bore.

Thou art as Morning in her house of gold,
When mute, dethroned, unhappy Night hath fled
To refuge with the ocean grey and old,
Companioned by the vassal stars in flight,
And rout of armies panoplied in red.
The rest are shadows—thou indeed art Light.

Comments about The Ideal by George Sterling

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 7, 2010

[Report Error]