by: William James Dawson
- OMETIMES, I know not why, nor
how, nor whence,
- A change comes over me, and then the task
- Of common life slips from me. Would you ask
- What power is this which bids the world go hence?
- Who knows? I only feel a faint perfume
- Steal through the rooms of life; a saddened sense
- Of something lost; a music as of brooks
- That babble to the sea; pathetic looks
- Of closing eyes that in a darkened room
- Once dwelt on mine: I feel the general doom
- Creep nearer, and with God I stand alone.
- O mystic sense of sudden quickening!
- Hopes lark-song rings, or lifes deep undertone
- Wails through my heart--and then I needs must sing.
MORE POEMS BY WILLIAM JAMES DAWSON
"Inspirations" is reprinted
from The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. Ed. Nicholson
& Lee. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1917.