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THE DARK 
 
THE DARK 
 
 BY 
 
 ELLEN M. H. GATES 
 
 NEW YORK 
 1904 
 
USRAKYef CONSftESS 
 Two Copies Kuceivcci 
 
 DtC 21 15^04 
 
 Copynefii entry 
 
 cuss /^ XXc N0( 
 / C ^ 1^ zo 
 
 GO FY B. 
 
 t...-< — ..1. -. 1 
 
 Copyright, 1904, by 
 
 Ellen M. H. Gates 
 
 
THE DARK 
 
 I am the Dark, the ancient one, 
 Before the days and years begun, 
 I hovered formless, silent, cold, 
 And filled the void. No page unrolled, 
 Makes mention of my timeless reign; 
 No rock on mountain-top or plain. 
 By scar or symbol, now can tell. 
 The secrets that I know so well. 
 
I am the Dark, the first to be; 
 
 My own beginning baffles me. 
 
 I seemed a thin^ apart, forgot, 
 
 Which was — because the Li^ht was not. 
 
 I dwelt with Chaos; place I kept 
 
 As atom unto atom crept, 
 
 Till Order stood, with sinews set. 
 
 And law with law like brothers met. 
 
I am the Dark, for still I stay, 
 With half my kingdom wrenched away. 
 There came an hour when all the black, 
 A filmy screen, was folded back. 
 Above me, through me, everywhere. 
 Were scarlet streaks and golden glare; 
 And mighty winds began to blow 
 The trailing mist-wreaths to and fro. 
 
I am the Dark. The eye that sees 
 The midnight moons and Pleiades, 
 Must wait for me. I claim the sky 
 To show the splendors swinging ^^S^ 
 In space so deep, and wide, and black, 
 That thought itself comes trembling back. 
 The Sun may show the sea and sod, 
 But I— the far-off fields of God ! 
 
I am the Dark. My paths I keep; 
 No hour too soon the li^ht may creep 
 Above the hills, no moment late 
 The Sun may reach the western ^ate. 
 The shadows are my own; their win^s 
 They spread above all breathing things, 
 Till joy and pain, and more and less. 
 Are one in sleep's unconsciousness. 
 
I am the Dark. The under-world, 
 
 With soundless rivers onward whirled, 
 
 Is mine alone; and mine the lakes, 
 
 O'er which the morning never breaks. 
 
 I dwell in caverns, vast, unknown. 
 
 Whose walls are wrought from primal stone; 
 
 There Silence, Death, and I, can wait, — 
 
 Creation's ^rim triumvirate ! 
 
I am the Dark, and forth and back, 
 As God's own servant, robed in black, 
 I ^o and come. His dead I keep 
 Within my chambers while they sleep. 
 Who knows my doom ? Perhaps, at last, 
 I may be ended, outward cast 
 From all that is, my deepest ni^ht 
 Invaded by resistless li^ht ! 
 
 Ellen M. H. Gates. 
 
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