Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/42

 More soft than shadow, more strong than the strong sun's light, More pure than moonbeams--yea, but the rays run sheer As fire from the sun through the dusk of the pinewood, clear And constant; yea, but the shadow itself is bright That the light clothes round with love that is one with fear.

Above and behind it the noon and the woodland lie, Terrible, radiant with mystery, superb and subdued, Triumphant in silence; and hardly the sacred sky Seems free from the tyrannous weight of the dumb fierce mood Which rules as with fire and invasion of beams that brood The breathless rapture of earth till its hour pass by And leave her spirit released and her peace renewed.