PREVIOUS NEXT FIRST The Wind on the plain...
CDXXX
Delacroix's Ovid Among The Scythians
The Wind on the plain

of Steadfast Darkness sloughs off
so calmly th'sunshine's rain

and we swim off a Sadness enough

profoundly enough to pass for Pain
(which is just what life's worlds sustain

so steadfast--or we drown to Th'Depthless Rough.

While th'Wind on th'plain
of Fitfulness the immortal--Light wastes away

its iffy turns over dryly trying again
to stand (up) a Happiness of yesterday

out of such lost domains (does our fallow Time attain
th'ripe Heights that th'self-exceeding brain

unchains )             
              Death

plunging lowest out of its greenest stay.

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