Recognition

Transfigured soul, so often you come back To break my endless night of pain and doubt With those clear eyes that Death has not put out, But lit with fire immortal; Ah! I lack The words to tell the turning of the rack When I begin to find again about Old haunts your beauty’s presence, quick to rout Despair, and softly lighting memory’s track. Years I went singing of you up and down, Now I go mourning for you through the land In heavy loneliness. My Day, my Crown, One splendid joy great sorrow cannot drown: That when you come I know and understand Your walk, your voice, your face, your hair, your gown.