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286 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF
Art thou not now, bright one, all sorrow past, in
elation, Filled with wild joy, grown brother-hearted with the
vast, Whither thy spirit wending flits the dim stars past Unto the Light of Lights in burning adoration ?
BY THE MARGIN OF THE GREAT DEEP
W
HEN the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies, All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow and silver gleam, With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes; I am one with the twilight's dream.
When the trees and skies and fields are one in dusky
mood, Every heart of man is rapt within the mother's breast: Full of peace and sleep and dreams in the vasty quietude, I am one with their hearts at rest.
From our immemorial joys of hearth and home and
love Strayed away along the margin of the unknown tide, All its reach of soundless calm can thrill me far above . Word or touch from the lips beside.
Aye, and deep and deep and deeper let me drink and draw |
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