The Path – May 1889

REFRACTIONS — O. E. W.

When pierced hangs the dew-drop's tiny prism
     By some minutest needle-ray of light,
     A stain of blood or blue betrays to sight
The fervors of that white drop's secret schism;
And were the oceans all one cataclysm
     Hung out betwixt the sun and farther night,
     The same disparting force would spring a bright,
Wide arch of rainbow o'er the vast abysm.
And I would that the vital beam, far lined
     Through space to throw its spectrum sensitive
          Of worlds and suns and galaxies upon
The universe's awful wall, may find
     My soul a crystal medium fit to give
          Its paint of color in the throbbing dawn.
O. E. W.

The Path

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