David
Eternal cold of silence, where each sound Dies in its birth, and Deaths pale henchmen meet With soft Lethean traps unwary feet Or ride with hells white steed and slavering hound; Which of us, searching selfward, has not found This desolate realm, and long black seams, that greet Our souls with recollections of defeat, And torrid fossils in the frozen ground? Not he, who comes among us as a king; Strange were the secret waste and granite walls To him whose reverent feet have travelled far Where duty beckons and adventure calls. He steers his course, by one red tropic star, Where ripples the green robe of the lilting spring.
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"Eternal cold of silence, where each sound..."
John Le Gay Brereton's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "David"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...