Winter 1942 • Vol. IV No. 1 Poetry |

On Darkness, on Evil, on Night, Etc.

Let those of poor energy  Fear night. Not I. Night does so unmake me  Into purity of disparate parts, where I lie Sleeping my wrong dreams my  Bad fears that they may never be. And out of self so ill  Begin again With the unbroken will,  The unspoiled energy of the lion’s den. Night’s the recess under the hill  Where serpents uncharm men.

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