Menken, Adah Isaacs
Oh! is there no strength is sorrow, or in prayers?
Is there no power in the untried wings of the soul, to
smite the brazen portals of the sun?
Must the black-sandaled foot of Night tramp out the
one star that throbs through the darkness of my waning
life?111May not the strong arm of " I will," bring some beam
to lead me into my sweet Hope again?
Alas, too late! too late!
The power of these blood-dripping cerements sweeps
back the audacious thought to emptiness
Hungry Death will not heed the poor bird that has
tangled its bright wing through my deep-heart pulses.
Moaning and living.
Dying and loving.