I wandered through a forest in my dream,
And in my hand, a drooping candle flamed,
Flickering in the wind, flaring untamed
As flashes round the rocks a mountain-stream.
See, through the wood came no responsive gleam.
No stars, no moon: Save for that circle framed,
Held captive by the candle’s light, naught shamed
The darkness round — no other kindly beam.
Strange winds moan past, whose sudden rise and fall
Fill me with dread, for in their short-lived flight
They fain would seize my solitary light.
On through the trees I go — But hark, a breath
A moan of mighty winds; a wailing call —
Oh God, the Darkness comes, and with it Death.
(R S Ward)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Light Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Nature Poems, Dreams Poems, Past PoemsBased on Keywords: mountain-stream