Read "The Point of View: II" by Edith Nesbit online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
I
IN the wood of lost causes, the valley of tears, / Old hopes, like dead leaves, choke the difficult way; / Dark pinions fold dank round the soul, and it hears: / "It is night, it is night, it has never been day; / Thou hast dreamed of the day, of the rose of delight; / It was always dead leaves and the heart of the night.
Drink deep then, and rest, O thou foolish wayfarer, / For night, like a chalice, holds sleep in her hands."
II
Then you drain the dark cup, and, half-drugged as you lie / In the arms of despair that is masked as delight, / You thrill to the rush of white wings, and you hear: / "It is day, it is day, it has never been night! / Thou hast dreamed of the night and the wood of lost leaves; / It was always noon, June, and red roses in sheaves, / Unlock the blind lids, and behold the light-bearer / Who holds, like a monstrance, the sun in his hands. "