Explore "Sonnets of the Great Peace" by Helen Gray Cone on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Incertainties now crown themselves assured / And peace proclaims olives of endless age. " / -- SHAKESPEARE'S _Sonnet CVII_.
I. What boon is this, this fresh and crystal thing, / Perfect as snow, dropped from the deep of the sky -- / This healing, shed as from the soft swift wing / Of some great mystical bird low-sweeping by? / This music suddenly thrilling through the mind / Angelic unimagined ecstasy, / As when warm fingers of the Spring unbind / Young brooks that laugh and leap, at last being free? / By what white magic, what unfathomed art, / Was this best gift secretly perfected, / This amulet, that laid against the heart / Melts all the icy weight that held it dead? / _This is that Peace we had and did not know; / This is that Peace we lost -- how long ago! _