Spirit Fear.
I look with half unfriendly eyes
Into the casual eyes I meet,
As if my spirit feared surprise,
Dim-memoried with some old defeat.
In a far life it may be, when
It breathed in a monastic cell,
And found a fallacy in men
More sad than any tongue can tell
Or flashing in a warrior's fame
A sword for friendship fiercely drew
But turned to dust an honored name
And made life's mead a bitter brew.
And still like an ancestral stain
The memory on the spirit lies,
And still it fears to meet again
The light of those accusing eyes
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
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