 At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing. I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing. I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing. I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, In sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Ernst Batinama. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Iswa, In Belgium in June 2009. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Floyd Wilde, At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looking with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Greg Bowman, At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew not sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Lucy Perry. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Mike Vendetti. Mike Vendetti.com. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Mike Vendetti. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Ruth Golding. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Raven Notation. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell, Read for LibriVox.org by Rebecca Watts, June 8, 2009. Forgiveness at dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, Insold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness at dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day, Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, Insold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. Forgiveness by George William Russell Read for LibriVox.org by Sarah Sharief At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day, Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, Insold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day, Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, Insold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. The window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day, Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Forgiveness by George William Russell. Read for LibriVox.org by Tom Hackett. At dusk the window-panes grew grey, The wet world vanished in the gloom, The dim and silver end of day, Scarce glimmered through the little room, And all my sins were told, I said such things to her who knew no sin, The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within, I touched with pain her purity, Sins darker since I could not bring, My soul was black as night to me, To her I was a wounded thing, I needed love no words could say, She drew me softly nigh her chair, My head upon her knees to lay, With cool hands that caressed my hair. She sat with hands as if to bless, And looked with grave ethereal eyes, And sold by ancient quietness, A gentle priestess of the wise.