To_ by Archbishop Trench

A friend’s post prompted me to read a poem I first discovered when I was just fifteen. I was going through one of my angry phases at the time and the poem helped me to calm down.

To_

Look what a glory from the setting sun

Has fringed that cloud with silver edges bright,

And how it seems to drink the golden light

Of evening; you would think that it had won

A splendour of its own: but lo! anon

You shall behold a dark mass float away.

Emptied of light and radiance, from the day,

Its glory faded utterly and gone.

And doubt not we should suffer the same loss

As this weak vapour, which awhile did seem

Translucent and made pure of all its dross,

If, having shared the light, we should misdeem

That light our own, or count we hold in fee

That which we must receive continually. 

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