Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

(1840 - 1922 / England)

The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part Iv: Vita Nova: Cvii - Poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

THE SAME CONTINUED
Clutching the brink with hands and feet and knees,
With trembling heart, and eyes grown strangely dim,
A part thyself and parcel of the frieze
Of that colossal temple raised to Time,
To gaze on horror, till, as in a crime,
Thou and the rocks become accomplices.
There is no voice, no life 'twixt thee and them.
No life! Yet, look, far down upon the breeze
Something has passed across the bosom bare
Of the red rocks, a leaf, a shape, a shade.
A living shadow! Ay, above thee there,
Weaving majestic circles overhead,
Others are watching.--This is the sublime
To be alone, with eagles in the air.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



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