Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 51

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LI SUN AND STORM
Open your gates, ye skies, and let the host Of gathered waters fall, and drown the earth!Your hour of utmost terror is the ghost   Of that when Grief had birth.
The all-resplendent Spring, the pomp of May, Through white and golden flowers the virgin light,Are but a thin gray shadow of the day   When Joy was at her height.
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