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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=393082" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Soul's Quest</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">PART I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IN the land that is neither night nor day,<br>Where the mists sleep over the forests grey,<br>A sad, sad spirit wandered away.<br>The woods are still—no brooks, no wind,<br>No fair green meadows can she find; <br>5<br>But a low red light in the sky behind.<br>Far over the plain, to the spirit's sight,<br>The city's towers are black as night,<br>Against the edge of the low red light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This side the city in darkness lies,<br>10<br>But westward, at the glowering skies,<br>It glares with a thousand fiery eyes.<br>The road is long, the hedgerows bare,<br>There's the chill of death in the silent air,<br>And a glimmer of darkness everywhere.<br>15</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O sad, sad spirit, what thy quest,<br>With those flowing locks and that shadowy vest? '<br>The spirit answers, 'I seek for rest.'<br>'Where seekest rest, when the air is cold<br>On the long, dim road, and the clock hath tolled<br>20<br>The muffled hours form the belfry old? <br>'Where seekest rest through the twilight grey<br>Of the mists that sleep on the woods alway? '—<br>'I seek to-morrow or yesterday! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her face is pale, her feet are bare,<br>25<br>Her sad dark eyes, wide open, stare<br>At the glimmering darkness everywhere.<br>To those cheeks no rose hath summer brought,<br>But on their pallor time hath wrought<br>The troubled lines of an after-thought.<br>30</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her arms are crossed upon her breast,<br>Her round limbs shape the shadowy vest,<br>And thus, all silent, seeks she rest.<br>Her tread is light on the cold, hard road; <br>For the tread may be light, yet heavy the load<br>35<br>Of grief at the heart and thoughts that goad.<br>She plucks a leaf from the roadway side,<br>And under its shade two violets hide—<br>As if from her cold touch, they hide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She twines the violets in her hair; <br>40<br>They have no scent—she does not care,<br>For the glimmer of darkness is everywhere.<br>And on through the dim of the twilight grey,<br>While the pale sky gloweth far away,<br>She seeks to-morrow or yesterday.<br>45</div><div style="margin:10px 0">PART II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O Abbess, Abbess, the air is chill! <br>I heard the chaunting over the hill,<br>Like an angel's voice when the soul is still.<br>'O, Abbess, open wide thy gate! <br>Out on the cold, dim road I wait,<br>50<br>A spirit lone and desolate.<br>'Take thou these hands and these weary feet,<br>Cold as a corpse in its winding-sheet,<br>For the song of the nuns was so strange and sweet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Here with the sisters let me dwell,<br>55<br>Under these walls, in the loneliest cell,<br>Waiting the sound of the matin bell.<br>'Cut off these locks of flowing hair,<br>Cover with weeds this bosom bare,<br>For the glimmer of darkness is everywhere.<br>60</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ask not my name, nor whence my way,<br>For the mist sleeps over the wood alway,<br>And I seek to-morrow or yesterday.'<br>She's passed beneath the chapel door; <br>The nuns are kneeling on the floor,<br>65<br>But a low wind moaneth evermore.<br>Sweeter and sweeter the sisters sing,<br>Till high in the roof the echoes ring,<br>For they know that God is listening.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ave Maria, hear our cry,<br>70<br>As the shadows roll across the sky,<br>For those that live and those that die! <br>'Ave Maria, Virgin blest,<br>Help the sin-stained and distrest,<br>Give the weary-hearted rest! <br>75</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ave Maria, who didst bear<br>Jesus in this world of care,<br>Grant us all thy bliss to share! '<br>Sweeter and sweeter the sisters sing,<br>From arch to arch the echoes ring,<br>80<br>For they know that God is listening.<br>Out of the north the oceans roll,<br>Washing the lands from pole to pole:<br>No rest—no rest for the old world's soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The after-glow of suns that set<br>85<br>O'er fields with morning dew once wet,<br>Where all life's flowering roadways met,<br>Long shadows of our joys has sent,<br>Sloping adown the way we went<br>Towards darkness where our feet are bent.<br>90</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is it the moan of the evening wind? <br>Or the voice of the ocean in the mind,<br>While the pale red light looms up behind? <br>Is it moan of wind, or convent bell,<br>Or cry of the ocean? I cannot tell; <br>95<br>But a voice in her heart has locked the spell.<br>She does not hear the organ's swell; <br>In vain she strives her beads to tell,<br>For a voice in her heart has locked the spell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She broods among the tangled fears,<br>100<br>The undergrowth of perished years,<br>That darken round the lake of tears.<br>Silent and dank, they fringe the brim<br>Of waters motionless and dim,<br>Unmoved by wings of Seraphim.<br>105</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No lights on the altar the spirit sees,<br>The cloistered aisles are but leafless trees,<br>And the music, the sigh of the evening breeze.<br>No matin or vesper bell for her; <br>The leafless branches never stir<br>110<br>In the pale, pale light of the days that were.<br>No matin or vesper hymn or prayer<br>Can shut those eyes' wide-open stare<br>At the glimmering darkness everywhere.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The sweetest singing dies away; <br>115<br>No note of birds for those who stray<br>In the land that is neither night nor day.<br> <br>PART III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the shadowy light of the silent land,<br>With the tall gaunt hedges on either hand,<br>On the long, dim road doth the spirit stand.<br>120</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under the hedges the air is chill,<br>And the mists sleep over the forest still,<br>And are folded like wings on the sides of the hill.<br>Her arms are crossed upon her breast,<br>Her round limbs shape the shadowy vest,<br>125<br>Her feet are worn with seeking rest.<br>To her cheeks no rose hath summer brought,<br>While on their pallor time hath wrought<br>The troubled lines of an after-thought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But sweet is the gaze of those sad dark eyes,<br>130<br>And sweet their look of mute surprise,<br>As something in the road she spies.<br>Spurned under foot, o'ergrown with moss,<br>Counted of foolish men but loss,<br>On the cold, hard road lies Jesus' cross.<br>135</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the dim twilight as she stood,<br>She saw the marks of Jesus' Blood,<br>Then stooped and kissed the Holy Rood.<br>There are sounds of joy from the years gone by,<br>There's a pale red light in the forward sky,<br>140<br>And a star looks down through the mist on high.<br>Hush! for the light falls clear from that star,<br>Hush! for the day-dawn kindles afar,<br>Hush! for the gate of the sky is ajar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What is the voice of the boundless sea<br>145<br>As it clasps the lands excitedly? <br>Not the voice of the dead, but of what shall be—<br>Of what shall be when the world shall cease,<br>And oceans die in the reign of peace,<br>When God grants pardon and release.<br>150</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O sweetest taste of Jesus' Blood! <br>Joy bursts upon her like a flood; <br>The spirit kisseth Holy Rood.<br>A low wind moaneth evermore,<br>The nuns still kneel upon the floor,<br>155<br>But Jesus trod this way before.<br>She lifts the sacred emblem up:<br>This was His drink, His bitter cup; <br>And all His loved with Him must sup.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beneath its arms she bows her head,<br>160<br>Those arms so rudely fashionèd,<br>Which Jesus made His dying bed.<br>She bends beneath the cross's weight,<br>But now no longer desolate,<br>She stands before the convent gate.<br>165</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sweeter and sweeter the sisters sing,<br>From arch and roof the echoes ring,<br>While God above is listening.<br>'Ave Maria, Virgin blest,<br>Help the sin-stained and distrust,<br>170<br>Grant the weary-hearted rest! '<br>The altar-lights are shining fair,<br>And Jesus' cross is standing there; <br>The darkness brightens everywhere.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In silent bliss the spirit kneels,<br>175<br>For mortal utterance half conceals<br>The deepest joy the bosom feels.<br>She bears her burden day by day; <br>It wakens her at morning grey,<br>And calms her at eve's setting ray.<br>180</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She bears it through the length of years; <br>The rough wood drives away her fears,<br>The blood-stains check all earthly tears.<br>Through daily round of deed and psalm,<br>She moves in silent strength and calm,<br>185<br>The cross her solace and her balm.<br>She bears it round from door to door,<br>And lonely hearts that ached before,<br>Find joy and peace for evermore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So in the present, people say,<br>190<br>Of holy deed and prayer alway,<br>She finds to-morrow and yesterday.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Frederick+George+Scott">Frederick George Scott</a><div class=q>
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<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=393082" data-title="The Soul's Quest de Frederick George Scott" data-description="PART I

IN the land that is neither night nor day,
Where the mists sleep over the forests grey,
A sad, sad spirit wandered away.
The woods are still—no brooks, no wind,
No fair green meadows can she find; 
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But a low red light in the sky behind..."></div>
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