Ibant Obscuræ

Poem By Thomas Edward Brown

To-night I saw three maidens on the beach,
Dark-robed descending to the sea,
So slow, so silent of all speech,
And visible to me
Only by that strange drift-light, dim, forlorn,
Of the sun's wreck and clashing surges born.

Each after other went,
And they were gathered to his breast--
It seemed to me a sacrament
Of some stern creed unblest:
As when to rocks, that cheerless girt the bay,
They bound thy holy limbs, Andromeda.

Comments about Ibant Obscuræ

There is no comment submitted by members.


Rating Card

3,0 out of 5
11 total ratings

Other poems of BROWN

Pain

The Man that hath great griefs I pity not;
’Tis something to be great
In any wise, and hint the larger state,
Though but in shadow of a shade, God wot!

My Garden

A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!
Rose plot,
Fringed pool,
Ferned grot--

Salve!

TO live within a cave--it is most good;
   But, if God make a day,
   And some one come, and say,
'Lo! I have gather'd faggots in the wood!'

Vespers

O blackbird, what a boy you are!
How you do go it!
Blowing your bugle to that one sweet star -
How you do blow it!

I Bended Unto Me A Bough

I bended unto me a bough of May,
That I might see and smell:
It bore it in a sort of way,
It bore it very well.