37. STRUGGLE'S GLOOM

With a blank sorrow heavy I am now grown;
Like things eternal changeless stands my woe.
In vain I try to overcome my foe.
O Lord of Love!
make me more dead than stone.

Thy Grace of silent smile I never feel,
The forger of Evil stamps my nights and days.
His call my sleepless body ever obeys.
My heart I annihilate and try to heal.

The dumb earth-waste now burns a hell to my soul.
I fail to fight with its stupendous doom,
My breath is a slave of that unending gloom.
For Light I pine, but find a tenebrous goal.

Smoke-clouds cover my Face of Spirit’s fire;
Naked I move in night’s ignorance deep and dire.