Proverbs xviii. 14.
WIND play o’er my brow,
Cool it with thy breath,
Lest within it now
Fever turn to death;
Leave that bending rose,
Bright things do not heed thee;
Let that stream repose,
Coolness doth not need thee.
Wave flow o’er my brain,
Flow through memory’s cell,
Till the strife the pain
That within it dwell,
With thy waters blended
Cease to toss and burn;
In oblivion ended,
Never more return.
O dark quiet night,
Linger, linger round me,
Let thy shadowy might,
As if death had bound me,
Lay its weight of calm
On this tortured being,
By its opiate-balm
Make me all unseeing.
Wind, and night, and wave,
Ye are powerless all,
Ev’n the deep cold grave
Mocks me when I call!
What may soothe or aid,
Grief the soul can feel?
God! thy hand that made,
Is the hand must heal!
(Mary Jane Jewsbury)
More Poetry from Mary Jane Jewsbury:
Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems based on Topics: Soul, Mind, Death & Dying, God, Night, Grief, Pain, Brain, Proverbs- Dreams Of Heaven (Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems)
- The First Sacrifice (Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems)
- Poetical Portraits (Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems)
- To My Own Heart (Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems)
- The Oceanides IV (Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems)
- Lines Written After Reading Sir Edward Seaward's Narrative (Mary Jane Jewsbury Poems)