There's a Certain Slant of Light

There's a certain slant of light,On winter afternoons,That oppresses, like the weightOf cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;We can find no scar,But internal differenceWhere the meanings are.

None may teach it anything,'T is the seal, despair,—An imperial afflictionSent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,Shadows hold their breath;When it goes, 't is like the distanceOn the look of death.