Comfortable Light

Most comfortable Light, Light of the small lamp burning up the night, With dawn enleagued against the beaten dark; Pure golden perfect spark; Or sudden wind-bright flame, That but the strong-handed wind can urge or tame; Chill loveliest light the kneeling clouds between, Silverly serene; Comfort of happy light, That mouse-like leaps amid brown leaves, cheating sight; Clear naked stars, burning with swift intense Earthward intelligence;— Sensitive, single Points in the dark inane that purely tingle With eager fire, pouring night's circles through Their living blue; Dark light still waters hold; Broad silver moonpath trodden into gold: Candle-flame glittering through the traveller's night— Most comfortable light.... And lovelier, the eye Where light from darkness shines unfathomably, Light secret, clear, shallow, profound, known, strange, Constant alone in change:— Not that wild light that turns Hunted from dying eyes when the last fire burns; O, not that bitter light of wounded things, When bony anguish springs Sudden, intolerable; Nor light of mad eyes gleaming up from hell.... Come not again, wild light! Shine not again, Hill-flare of pain! But thou, most holy light.... Not the noon blaze that stings, too fiercely bright, Not that unwinking stare of shameless day; But thou, the gray, Nun-like and silent, still, Fine-breathed on many an eastern bare green hill; Keen light of gray eyes, cool rain, and stern spears; Sad light, but not to tears:— —O, comfort thou of eyes Watching expectant from chill northern skies, Excellent joy for lids heavy with night— Strange with delight!