English poem
II.— THE PAST
by Robert Nichols (1893–1944)
How to escape the bondage of the past? I fly thee, yet my spirit finds no calms Save when she deems her rocked within those arms To which, from which she ne'er was caught or cast.
O sadness of a heart so spent in vain, That drank its age's fuel in an hour: For whom the whole world burning had not power To quick with life the smouldered wick again!