<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391988" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>After-Strain</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now with wan ray that other sun of Song<br>Sets in the bleakening waters of my soul:<br>One step, and lo! the Cross stands gaunt and long<br>'Twixt me and yet bright skies, a presaged dole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even so, O Cross! thine is the victory.<br>Thy roots are fast within our fairest fields;<br>Brightness may emanate in Heaven from thee,<br>Here thy dread symbol only shadow yields.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of reap-ed joys thou art the heavy sheaf<br>Which must be lifted, though the reaper groan;<br>Yea, we may cry till Heaven's great ear be deaf,<br>But we must bear thee, and must bear alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Vain were a Simon; of the Antipodes<br>Our night not borrows the superfluous day.<br>Yet woe to him that from his burden flees!<br>Crushed in the fall of what he cast away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Therefore, O tender Lady, Queen Mary,<br>Thou gentleness that dost enmoss and drape<br>The Cross's rigorous austerity,<br>Wipe thou the blood from wounds that needs must gape.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Lo, though suns rise and set, but crosses stay,<br>I leave thee ever,' saith she, 'light of cheer.'<br>'Tis so: yon sky still thinks upon the Day,<br>And showers aerial blossoms on his bier.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yon cloud with wrinkled fire is edg-ed sharp;<br>And once more welling through the air, ah me!<br>How the sweet viol plains him to the harp,<br>Whose pang-ed sobbings throng tumultuously.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, this Medusa-pleasure with her stings!<br>This essence of all suffering, which is joy!<br>I am not thankless for the spell it brings,<br>Though tears must be told down for the charmed toy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No; while soul, sky, and music bleed together,<br>Let me give thanks even for those griefs in me,<br>The restless windward stirrings of whose feather<br>Prove them the brood of immortality.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My soul is quitted of death-neighbouring swoon,<br>Who shall not slake her immitigable scars<br>Until she hear 'My sister!' from the moon,<br>And take the kindred kisses of the stars.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Thompson">Francis Thompson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391988" data-title="After-Strain de Francis Thompson" data-description="Now with wan ray that other sun of Song Sets in the bleakening waters of my soul: One step, and lo! the Cross stands gaunt and long 'Twixt me and yet bright skies, a presaged dole. Even so, O Cross! thine is the victory. Thy roots are fast within..."></div> </div> </div>

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