Song of the wave / George Cabot Lodge [electronic text]

XXXIII

THE low moon quivers on the hyacinth sky, And lays upon the ocean's glooming frown Its frail caress; like silence tenderly The shadow falls immeasurably down. A smouldering flame perturbs the heaven's girth, As might, in some great moment, silently, A sudden vision of the tragic earth Blazon the brows of God with mystery. And thou shalt come as the great shadow falls, Like the slow single star, and lay thy last Ethereal kiss upon my tired eyes; And I shall answer thee as one who calls Through the dumb places of the haunted past, Drinking its fulness ere the moment dies.