I had been sitting alone with books,
Till doubt was a black disease,
When I heard the cheerful shout of rooks
In the bare, prophetic trees.
Bare trees, prophetic of new birth,
You lift your branches clean and free
To be a beacon to the earth,
A flame of wrath for all to see.
And the rooks in the branches laugh and shout
To those that can hear and understand:
'Walk through the gloomy ways of doubt
With the torch of vision in your hand.'
Vision
Aldous Huxley
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Poem topics: alone, birth, walk, earth, hear, clean, beacon, laugh, flame, understand, black, vision, gloomy, I love you, I miss you, doubt, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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