Poems (Bushnell)/The Rift of Gold
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XVII
THE RIFT OF GOLD
THE RIFT OF GOLD
Dark clouds the heavenly blue infold,
But on the sunset rifted lie,
And frame, with rim of shining gold,
A width of open sky.
But on the sunset rifted lie,
And frame, with rim of shining gold,
A width of open sky.
It hangs, an outlook calm and blest;
A broad, unhindered upward way,
To warmer realms and lands of rest,
Mid waveless floods of day.
A broad, unhindered upward way,
To warmer realms and lands of rest,
Mid waveless floods of day.
We reach far out beyond the rift,
And long to follow or to hold;
But eastward whirls the ceaseless drift,
To depths of night and cold.
And long to follow or to hold;
But eastward whirls the ceaseless drift,
To depths of night and cold.
Yet souls fly out and up, so far,
They have no need of earthly light,
Or flame of heaven-enkindled star,
To solace darkest night.
They have no need of earthly light,
Or flame of heaven-enkindled star,
To solace darkest night.
Past sun and stars; in deeps behind
These trailing clouds and lower cold,
May he who looks forever find
The open rift of gold.
These trailing clouds and lower cold,
May he who looks forever find
The open rift of gold.