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A poem by Alfred Noyes |
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The Cry In The Night |
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Title: The Cry In The Night Author: Alfred Noyes [More Titles by Noyes] It tears at the heart in the night, that moan of the wind, It is worse than the sobbing of love, when love is estranged: A cry over numberless graves, dark, helpless and blind, * * * * * From the height of creation, in passion eternal, the Word Not of earth is that height of all sorrow, past time, out of space, Ah, could I shrink if Thy heart for each heart upon earth Shall I accuse Thee, then? God, I account it my own If this be the One Way for ever, which not Thine all-might Shall I who took part in Thine April, shrink now from my part Die with Thee, balancing life, or help Thee to pay [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |