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

THE EAST WIND

It came! Breaking across the giant gates of gold It cleaved the veils of morning fold on fold, A fluent sword aslant the early flame.

The seaShivered, as waking from impassioned sleep A naked girl might feel her senses creep Beneath the winter of reality.

The dawn Fell haggard and dishevelled from the skies, The shoreless ocean filled with whispered cries And through the smothered twilight reared its spawn.

And nowA splash of chilly wind forsook the air And caught the ocean by its tangled hair, Bent it, and bit the stigma in its brow.

AloneThe wind of ruin walked from sky to sky— As when Sertorius put forth to die, It swayed the void beyond the gates of stone.

And then It grew almighty and the ocean roared;The living slime wherewith the world is floored Hearkened, as in their ships despairing men.

To meThe whisper came, the voice and then the call Of wanton power, and then, o'erwhelming all, The passion of mine own infinity.