Fetters
Arthur O'Shaughnessy
1844 to 1881
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In too much seeking love I found but grief;
I have but multiplied the means of pain;
A ties too poignant or too brief
Bind me things that love not back again.
All things with power my heart have won —
Truth by light, the Unknown by its veil —
A gold thread binds me to the sun,
And each star a silken thread more frail.
The cadence me to the melody,
Its velvet softness to rose I touch;
One smile soon robbed my of liberty,
And for my mouth the first did as much.
My life now hangs upon these threads,
Captive of all fair things I feel see;
Each breath that change or trouble o'er sheds
Rends from my heart itself a part of me.
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