Renouncement

by S.Park

I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong, 
I shun the thought that lurks in all delight-
The thought of thee- and in the blue heaven’s height,
And in the dearest passage of a song.
Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng
This breast, the thought of thee waits, hidden yet bright
But it must never, never come in sight;
I must stop short of thee the whole day long,
But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,
Must doff my will as raiment laid away-
With the first dream that comes with the first sleep
I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart.

Alice Meynell 

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