115 . I said, This Misery must end

I SAID, This misery must end:

Shall I, that am a man and know

that sky and wind are yet my friend,

sit huddled under any blow?

so speaking left the dismal room

and stept into the mother-night

all fill’d with sacred quickening gloom

where the few stars burn’d low and bright,

and darkling on my darkling hill

heard thro’ the beaches’ sullen boom

heroic note of living will

rung trumpet-clear against the fight;

so stood and heard, and rais’d my eyes

erect, that they might drink of space,

and took the night upon my face,

till time and trouble fell away

and all my soul sprang up to feel

as one among the stars that reel

in rhyme on their rejoicing way,

breaking the elder dark, nor stay

but speed beyond each trammelling gyre,

till time and sorrow fall away

and night be wither’d up, and fire

consume the sickness of desire.