In the Room By James Thomson.
Part 2 of 13.
And so throughout
the twilight hour That vaguely murmurous hush and rest
There brooded; and beneath its power
Life throbbing held its throbs supprest:
Until the thin-voiced mirror sigh’d,
I am all blurr’d with dust and damp,
So long ago the clear day died,
So long has gleamed nor fire nor lamp.
Whereon the curtain murmur’d back,
Some change is on us, good or ill;
Behind me and before is black
As when those human things lie still:
But I have seen the darkness grow
As grows the daylight every morn;
Have felt out there long shine and glow,
In here long chilly dusk forlorn.
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