Reminder

What darkness can remind us,
of the things of othertime,
of the sins of old,
or the lust for gold,
what share of these was mine.
What confusion comes to bind us,
at a time of other things,
when the wind has dropped,
and the rain has stopped,
to confound us with these sins.

What dawning comes to blind us,
when the sun would fain to rise,
what painfull light,
so dazling bright,
would burn into our eyes.
What truth comes to inform us,
when all else fails to prove,
to wake the hazed,
or make amazed,
and onwards let us move.