Poetry Archives

  Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow;
      Though thou be black as night,
      And she made all of light,
Yet follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow.

  Follow her, whose light thy light depriveth;
      Though here thou liv’st disgrac’d,
      And she in heaven is plac’d,
Yet follow her whose light the world reviveth.

  Follow those pure beams, whose beauty burneth;
      That so have scorched thee,
      As thou still black must be,
Till her kind beams thy black to brightness turneth.

  Follow her, while yet her glory shineth;
      There comes a luckless night
      That will dim all her light;
And this the black unhappy shade divineth.

  Follow still, since so thy fates ordained;
      The sun must have his shade,
      Till both at once do fade,
The sun still proud, the shadow still disdained.