Collected Poems
Blind
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Blind
Though I have lost the light
I count it not a woe,
for through my starless night
flock dreams of long ago,
brave dreams of old delight,
lost, lovely things aglow,
that never shone so bright
in days I used to know.
I see the blaze of noon
upon the world once more
and sunlit flowers all strewn
upon her meadow-floor.
I see the earth again
wake from her slumbering;
and silver scars of rain
upon the skies of spring.
The colours of the earth
flow through my darkened brain,
and things of little worth
are now unbounded gain.
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Such things I did not prize
when soul, not eye, was blind,
but now I have not eyes
they blossom in the mind.