Poem by Isaac Rosenberg

The Nun

So thy soul's meekness shrinks,
Too loth to show her face-
Why should she shun the world?
It is a holy place.

Concealed to itself
If the flower kept its scent,
Of itself amorous,
Less rich its ornament.

Use-utmost in each kind-
Is beauty, truth in one,
While soul rays light to soul
In one God-linked sun. 

1. Don Juans Song
2. In the Underworld
3. Wedded
4. My Days
5. Sleep

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