("The casement, now drawn inward...")

Edith Mirick

We know life for a shadow time has cast,

Hid by the light, by this quick dark revealed.

How nebular the years have been we know

Abruptly now. The little pomp and blare

Fade like the rising frosty breath we blow.

Sharply, decisively, we are aware

The sound and color we have known life by,

Are a mysterious dream of ear and eye.

The casement, now drawn inward from the night,

Has closed once more on walled and transient gloom.

Grope for the lesser and the closer light;

Flood once again the measure of your room.

It has lost cubits since you traveled heaven

With a brave eye. The chair, the rug, appear

Less intimate; the clock hands, at eleven,

Mark but a moment gone since you were here.

Now little shapes are mirrored once again

Upon an inky window-glass which bars,

But by the width of a deceptive pane,

An infinite meadow, and a house of stars.

Stir the old fire. Clutch to the frosty shoulder

The mortal cloak. The flames you left still smoulder.