DE PROFUNDIS - William Roscoe Poems

 
 

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DE PROFUNDIS

Oh why is heaven built so far,
      Oh why is earth set so remote?
I cannot reach the nearest star
      That hangs afloat.

I would not care to reach the moon,
      One round monotonous of change;
Yet even she repeats her tune
      Beyond my range.

I never watch the scatter'd fire
      Of stars, or sun's far-trailing train,
But all my heart is one desire,
      And all in vain:

For I am bound with fleshly bands,
      Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope;
I strain my heart, I stretch my hands,
      And catch at hope.