The Yellow Book/Volume 1/Δαιμονιζόμενος

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By Arthur Christopher Benson

You were clear as a sandy spring
After a drought, when its waters run
Evenly, sparingly, filtering
Into the eye of the sun.

Love you took with a placid smile,
Pain you bore with a hopeful sigh,
Never a thought of gain or guile
Slept in your wide blue eye.

Suddenly, once, at a trivial word,—
Side by side together we stept,—
Rose a tempest that swayed and stirred;
Over your soul it swept.
Dismal visitants, suddenly,
Pulled the doors in your house of clay;
Out of the windows there stared at me
Something horrible, grey.

This work was published before January 1, 1927, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.