Poems (Sill)/The Links of Chance
OLDING apoise in airMy twice-dipped pen,—for some tense thread of thought Had snapped,—mine ears were half awareOf passing wheels; eyes saw, but mind saw not, My sun-shot linden. Suddenly, as I stare,Two shifting visions grow and fade unsought:—
THE LINKS OF CHANCE.
OLDING apoise in airMy twice-dipped pen,—for some tense thread of thought Had snapped,—mine ears were half awareOf passing wheels; eyes saw, but mind saw not, My sun-shot linden. Suddenly, as I stare,Two shifting visions grow and fade unsought:— Noon-blaze: the broken shadeOf ruins strown. Two Tartar lovers sit: She gazing on the ground, face turned, afraid; And he, at her. Silence is all his wit. She stoops, picks up a pebble of green jadeTo toss: they watch its flight, unheeding it.
Ages have rolled away;And round the stone, by chance, if chance there be, Sparse soil has caught; a seed, wind-lodged one day,Grown grass; shrubs sprung; at last a tufted tree: Lo! over its snake root yon conquering BeyTrips backward, fighting—and half Asia free!