From the Gloom

By George Sterling

As one who, wandering in doubt and pain,
    Where waters dark and winds of midnight moan
    In some far wilderness as yet unknown,
Peers out upon a wide and trackless plain
Thro night no moon nor friendly stars attain,
    And seeks a refuge or a signal shown,
    Till, baffled, desperate, astray, alone,
He sees at last a light across the rain,—

So I, in darkness that thou canst not dream
    Of late a wanderer, uplift mine eyes
        And tremble, by thy distant radiance drawn.
Across life's plain I watch thy mystic beam,
    My goal beneath the re-enchanted skies:
        What is it thou shalt grant me—dusk or dawn?

Written in Sag Harbor.

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