Explore "Sweet Hours" by Carmen Sylva on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When dark thy childhood, tears and grief have filled / Thy swelling heart, that understood too much, / Yet not enough to be forgiving, when / The sun was pale, and darkness lonely, when / The fear of unknown evil made thy lips / Turn cold, and wonder changed to horror, then / To dumb despair, to childhood's hopelessness, / More hopeless than old age's iron clutch / Of unbelief, the shadow of the past / Will cast a pall o'er all thy life, then say: / Go down, Remembrance, into Lethe, go! / When work was hard and sacrifice in vain, / And stones were hurled at thee, thy flowers trodden / Into the soil, that, soaked with all thy blood, / Could not resist, and giving way would swallow / Thy noblest thoughts, and teach thee to undo / Thyself, gainsay thyself, as if a coward / Were crouching on thy shoulders, making thee / Believe that all thy heroism was / A sham -- then say: Go down to Lethe, Thought, / And darken not the hour when I rise / Out of myself, out of the past, into / The open day of wide forgetfulness.
When shame has crept into the rocky strength, / Into the pure recess a spotless soul / Had lent thee, and with fiery coals has burnt / A mark no rivers wash away, no winds / Can cool, that sends a shudder through thy heart, / Like snakes of cold disgust, then say again: / Go down to Lethe, not to rise and sting.