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“Oh moon of my delight that knows no WANE,
How oft hereafter, rising once AGAIN Shall look through this SAME GARDEN, And for ME in vain.” Will there be a place where our moons will never wane, where our delights will not be something conjured up from the past, but actualities?
I have a poem by Rossetti that I would like to share with you. The title is SUDDEN LIGHT. Memories come back to us suddenly -- from where? “I have been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights along the shore.
You have been mine before,How long ago I may not know: But just when at that swallow’s soar Your neck turned so Some veil did fall,-1 knew it all of yore.
Has this been thus before? And shall not thus time’s eddying flight
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