Robert Norwood

(27 March 1874 - 28 September 1932 / New Ross, Nova Scotia)

Dives In Torment

This was my failure, who thought that the feast
Rivalled the rapture of bird on the wing;
Rivalled the lily all robed like a priest;
Smoke of the pollen when Rose-censers swing.

This was my folly, who gave for a gown–
Purple and gold, and a bracelet and rings,
Shouts in the streets as I rode through the town–
Life in the love of the kinship of things.

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