Irish Jesuit Province

The Blind Man SpeaksAuthor(s): Q. Q.Source: The Irish Monthly, Vol. 65, No. 770 (Aug., 1937), p. 550Published by: Irish Jesuit ProvinceStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20514176 .

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550

Trhe Blind Man Speaks

tI'lth w%iino(wvs of my soul have all their shutters drawn, 'l'l lheratlds of my heart are dumb. ILikc the weak labouring mole beneath the breathless clay,

Whlio works in darkened hole and recks not of the day, 1 do not know the way in which the shades of dawn To light succumb.

Light lightens not my hours; I feel, but cannot see The pity that illuminates your eyes, The elemental powers that move the clouds, The tottering tall towers, the vivid crowds,

Who, all talking aloud, perceive not me, Unlearnt, unwise.

You who can read my plaint must know delight That know the weathergleam, The spears deathpale and faint of turning willowleaves, The poppies red as paint among the barley sheaves, The stars that weave with trees a web at night Above the stream.

QQ.

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