The Poetical Works of George Barlow :: :: University of Virginia Library

The night waxed onward—still the lanterns shone
Swung, gently still, by slightly freshening air;
Still love was king and pleasure held its own
Untired, and still the daring wooed the fair.

Still in that magic garden life seemed good
And still from young lips rang their silvery glee
When I through bosky paths in thoughtful mood
Moved slowly forth and sought the silent sea.

Not far it was—the garden sheltered lay,
A sweet enchanted stormless lamplit spot;
Yet hardly a stone's throw forth a waste of grey
Stretched, hearing love's soft laugh, but heeding not.

No lanterns flashed upon the sombre deep,
No throne of pleasure stood exalted there,
But stirring as it were in troubled sleep
The windless ocean murmured to the air:

“I hear the sounds of joyance—through dark leaves
Uncounted tiny meteor-lanterns shine;
The earth is gladdened, or my ear deceives:
Yet what abysmal loneliness is mine!

“No stars to-night through all the cloud-draped halls
Of heaven shall glitter, nor shall laughter be
To-night within the black sky's boundless walls
Save only mine, the laughter of the sea.”

I heard, and as I heard my spirit thrilled
Moved deep within me—from the sea there came
A sudden sense of mighty power that filled
My spirit with might and joy without a name.

No more the scent of heliotrope and pine
Suggested love's soft hour and passion's glee;
My nostrils drank the scent, the scent divine,
That gives to man the strange soul of the sea.

And, as I drank the scent, my soul grew great
And amorous for the sea's embrace and strong;
Then through the starless dark heaven's cloudy gate
Came the first cadence of the night-wind's song:—

“One fête, O sea! and are not thousands thine,
When through the heights and depths of purple space
The frenzied spears of forked red lightning shine
And when the pale ships shudder at thy face?

“One mortal fête, one garden's joyous bowers
Wherein swift-hearted lovers urge their claims—
Lo! theirs are one night's perishable flowers,
Thine are the golden stars' immortal flames.

“Fêtes thou hast watched on balmier shores than these
Beneath a softer heaven, where gentler night
Darkens the myrtle-groves and orange trees
And where fair women's eyes flash lovelier light.

“Where are the lovers who beside thy waves
Exchanged love's vows a thousand years ago?
Thy waters wash above their lampless graves:
Above their summer haunts thy wild waves flow.

“Fêtes thou hast watched on ships that through the deep
Urge venturous keels—then changing light to gloom
Hast bade the music pause, the dancers sleep
No wakeful slumber in their cold vast tomb.

“Man is but mortal but, immortal sea,
Beyond all words thine heart and mine are strong:
Thou hast the music of eternity
Within thy silence, I within my song.”

Then, as the wind's song ceased, from cloud on cloud
The sudden spears of lightning flashed their gleams;
The thunder pealed above the plains unploughed;
Far in the past seemed passion's languid dreams.

For now a larger passion shook my soul
Swayed by the prowess of the stormy night:
I laughed to hear the rising breakers roll,
Watching the echoing coast-line fringed with white.

The storm-wind and the sea were holding there
Majestic parley, their wild hearts were one:—
The lightning's fiery radiance thrilled the air,
The midnight blackness that defies the sun.

And through it all I mortal was a part
Of the immortal—time had ceased to be.
The mighty sea's was as the storm-wind's heart:
The storm-wind's soul was boisterous with the sea.

All was forgotten save the strife I saw,
The strife that hurls the doomed ships to their goal:
With rapture deeper even than deepest awe
I saw revealed the ocean's deathless soul;

The soul that though man's race to-day might die
Would still hold parley with the storm, the night,
And still through limitless eternity
Worship the gloom and battle with the light.