 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
43
XLI
Aye, idle talk, and maybe these,The dancers, be but kelp adrift
With undertow of under-seas—
Strange under-seas that fall or lift
And voiceless ever ebb and flow
Beneath the burning crater's plain
Through unknown channels to the main;
I only note the things I know
And loved and lived long years ago.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |