“In Tenebris”

Spring is such a strange time of year. I love the newness of everything, but there is a part of me that cannot shed winter so easily.

In Tenebris

by Ford Madox Ford

 

 All within is warm,

    Here without it’s very cold,

    Now the year is grown so old

 And the dead leaves swarm.

 

 In your heart is light,

    Here without it’s very dark,

    When shall I hear the lark?

 When see aright?

 

Oh, for a moment’s space!

    Draw the clinging curtains wide

    Whilst I wait and yearn outside

 Let the light fall on my face.

This poem is in the public domain.

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