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Frost, Robert - You make a labour of flight for one so airy
Identifier
000731
Type of Spiritual Experience
Background
A description of the experience
Robert Frost – from The Poetry of Robert Frost
You make a labour of flight for one so airy,
Spending yourself too much in self support,
Nor will you find love either, nor love you.
And what I pity in you is something human
The old incurable untimeliness
Only begetter of all ills that are.
But go. You are right. My pity cannot help.
Go till you wet your pinions and are quenched.
You must be made more simply wise than I
To know the hand I stretch impulsively
Across the gulf of well nigh everything
May reach to you, but cannot touch your fate.
I cannot touch your life, much less can save,
Who am tasked to save my own a little while.