Before the beginning of years
There came to the making of man
Time, with a gift of tears;
Grief, with a glass that ran;
Pleasure, with pain for leaven;
Summer, with flowers that fell;
Remembrance, fallen from heaven,
And madness risen from hell;
Strength without hands to smite;
Love that endures for a breath;
Night, the shadow of light,
And Life, the shadow of death.
~Algernon Charles Swinburne
This is my first time reading anything by this author and I think I could probably read this poem for years and find something "revealing" in it each time I read it. Sometimes it's like that .... sometimes things just speak to me... is it ever that way with you?
The image is that of the Nightshade family of wildflowers. My Field Guide to Wildflowers tells me it's called by several names: