Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LOOM OF YEARS, by ALFRED NOYES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE LOOM OF YEARS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea
Last Line: We come from the loom of the weaver that weaves the web of years.
Variant Title(s): The Song Of Re-birth
Subject(s): Religion; Time; Theology


IN the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea,
In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree,
Under the breath of laughter, deep in the tide of tears,
I hear the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.

The leaves of the winter wither and sink in the forest mould
To colour the flowers of April with purple and white and gold,
Light and scent and music die and are born again
In the sigh of a weary woman that wakes in a world of pain.

The hound, the fawn and the hawk, and the doves that croon and coo,
Well we know for our kindred with all beneath the blue,
The black wave and the flowing wind that hold our hopes and fears
As we come from the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.

The green uncrumpling fern and the dew that dims the rose
Are mingled into the Silence where the wings of music close,
Mingled into the Timeless that never a moment mars,
Mingled into the Darkness that made the suns and stars.

Soul to soul in the Darkness, dust to dust in the light
The wefts outworn of the ages are gathered again from the night,
Losing never a thread of their scattered hopes and fears
As they come from the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.

Oh, woven in one wide Loom through the throbbing weft of the whole,
One in spirit and flesh, one in body and soul,
Though the wave is alone in its whisper, the wind in its weary sigh,
The heart of man in the silence, the night in its human cry,

One with the flower of a day, one with the withered moon,
One with the granite mountains that melt into the noon,
One with the dream that triumphs beyond the light of the spheres,
We come from the Loom of the Weaver that weaves the Web of Years.





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