When I am in my grave,
The busy clouds will wander on;
This Moon, that silver–tips each dancing wave,
Will shine as it hath shone.
When I am low in ground,
The Spring will call and wake the flowers,
And yonder little knoll will show as gay
As it hath bloomed when ours.
When I am in the sky,
Long leagues above the evening–star,
The city–hum shall sound as fitfully
As now it comes from far.
When I am spirit clear,
More pure than is this Ocean–moon,
The false world in the great Eternal’s ear
Shall make no better tune.
God, lift me from the power
Of flesh–corruption: how shall I
Bear to be borne along with stainless flower
And fleecy clould on high!
God, lift up unto me
The sinning heart of human–kind;
How can I flutter down the skies and see
Their errant souls and blind?
Or wrap me in the light
That folds thy glory’s outer zone;
Be Thou the sole horizon to my sight,
Content in Thee alone.
(Henry Alford)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Light Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Flowers Poems, Spring Poems, Power PoemsBased on Keywords: evening-star