What is dark? that by dark more bright, my love,
Than my light can e'er illumine by pen-pricked angels,
Of golden tress his hair, makes beauteous my nights;
Else by days, too, hangs a picture upon e'ery wall,
Away from what to my mind still more blessed,
Of ages that are dead under the Archangel's brow,
Some unreflected being in the mirror, darkly lit in thy abode,
Of unattended presence through e'ery fig leaf in autumn wind,
E'ery fair from fair robs her red, ere thine unweird eye,
That I can ne'er hope to claim such slogans of disparity
Oft to thy solemn mien in trash and tinsel hides,
The reality of this world through e'ery pouring shadow.
(C)Naveed Khalid
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