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Title: Sunlight
Author: William Rose Benet [
More Titles by Benet]
Sunlight is full of age.
Ah, so old!
Older than any sage
Has ever told!
The draught our Lord quaffed up
To the bloody lees;
The aching hemlock cup
Of Socrates.
It is a golden sword;
The veil of the Grail;
The unfathomable Word
That will not fail.
Along a summer street
It often lies
Shimmering to repeat
Immortal paradise.
As a mountain lake can mirror
The exalted with the near,
Heaven's wonder and terror--
Both shine here.
It says all things in nought;
And, saying them, passes
To gild like gentle thought
Trees and grasses.
It sways upon the ocean
Like a god asleep
Where the waves' wandering motion
Hides the deep.
It shafts through forest aisles
Like miracle;
It trembles and smiles
On the lip of Hell.
It has touched Greece and Rome
And Persia's might--
And stirs the vines of home
With flickering light.
It lay on Cain's hot neck
As he stooped to slay.
David's stone from the beck
Glittered its day.
Cleopatra gazed upon it
Through shadowed lids.
High halls they built to shun it
In the Pyramids.
It opens babies' hands
That crawl to snatch its beams.
Through hovels in ancient lands
Its splendor streams.
Eternal wells of light
Its largeness shows.
There shall be no more night
Its conscience knows.
It is a smiling stranger,
A fainting hour,
Love and peace and danger
And the mock of power.
Yet have I said no word
Of what it is.
Only--my heart is stirred
By its mysteries!
[The end]
William Rose Benet's poem: Sunlight
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