Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/39

Rh For there where I bowed down

In my boastful agony,

I thought of thy cross and crown—

O Christ! I remembered thee.

VII—LOVE'S CRUELTY

INTERLUDE

cloud was thick that hid the sun from sight

And over all a shadowy roof outspread,

Making the day dim with another night—

Not dark like that which past, but O, more dread

For the clear sunlight that had gone before

And prophecy of that which yet should be.

Like snow at night the wind-blown hills of sand

Shone with an inward gleam far down the land:

Beneath the lowering sky black was the sea

Across whose waves a bird came flying low,—

Borne swift on the wind with wing-beat halt and slow,—