Eleanor Farjeon (Элинор Фарджон)

New Light

What light was in me once unguarded was
  And any wind could blow it any way,
A flame in tatters, with all moods for laws,
  Wildest at midnight, pallidest by day.

A fire too tossed for comfort to the cold,
  A gleam too blurred for guidance to the dark,
Shifting caprice of red and blue and gold
  Flickering wanly from the troubled spark;

And other times a curl of azure smoke,
  Like the last puff of incense that is seen
To vanish from the brazier, rose to cloak
  The light until I feared it never had been.

But now the crystal-clear white globe of peace
  Has closed my spirit in, that it may burn
Steadily to the stars, and henceforth cease
  The wandering way of any wind to turn.

1. Pan-Worship
2. In the Oculist's Anteroom
3. Sonnets. 1. Man Cannot Be a Sophist to His Heart
4. Sonnets. 7. When I see two delay their wings at heaven
5. Two Choruses from “Merlin in Broceliande”

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