Saturday, June 16, 2012

Enoch Powell: First Poems: XXXI) Restoring to the world a world new-born

XXXI) Restoring to the world a world new-born

Restoring to the world a world new-born,
Untrodden yet, nor turned from rare to cheap
By frustrate effort, this, the latest morn,
Like a new passion, strong, mysterious, deep,
As when at first the mind inflames descries
In the mirage of sudden ecstasy
Beauty and wisdom infinite, the prize
Of conquering love-this dawn awakeneth me,
Awakeneth thee and waken in us twain
Boundless desire to love. But dawning day
Thy love and mine will not renew again,
For ours is dead and withereth away.

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