[Editor: This poem by Grant Hervey was published in Australians Yet and Other Verses, 1913.]
Going Blind
Is this the end of every hope,
Of all the plans I made,
To shut mine eyes and sadly grope
Through life in gloom arrayed ?
No more to see the shining stars,
No more to see the sun ;
My cry goes up to Heaven’s bars :
“What have I done ?”
No more to see the holy flowers,
The violet and the rose ;
No more to see the Spring’s glad showers —
The joy of living goes !
No more to see the face of Love,
Of my most-treasured one !
O ! hear my cry, thou God above :
“What have I done ?”
No more to see her shining eyes,
No more to see her face ;
No more with her to see the skies,
The far blue realms of space.
I may not view these lovely things,
Then all my race is run ;
I cry to Thee, O King of Kings :
“What have I done ?”
What sins are mine, that through the years
I mournfully must creep,
Nor see the blazing midnight spheres
Reflected in the deep ?
Nor see the birds, nor see the bees,
Nor see sweet children run ;
I cry amid my miseries :
“What have I done ?”
All blotted out from my poor sight,
And mournful dirges roll ;
I crawl o’er plains of endless Night,
And blackness fills my soul,
And tears of blood flow from mine eyes —
Poor eyes sweet Sight doth shun ;
I ask Thee, God, with bitter sighs :
“What have I done ?”
Source:
Grant Hervey. Australians Yet and Other Verses, Thomas C. Lothian, Melbourne, 1913, pages 33-34
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