 | Poems by James Rhoades |  |
44
THE POET'S CALL.
As ocean calls the river,
And as twilight calls the day,
As from this human fever
Death calls us all away,
And as twilight calls the day,
As from this human fever
Death calls us all away,
As the light winds call each other
To clear the summer sky,
And the sweet earth, their own mother,
Calls the blossoms down to die,
To clear the summer sky,
And the sweet earth, their own mother,
Calls the blossoms down to die,
As the warm spring calls the swallow,
And each wild flower the bee,
Speak, Voice divine, I follow,
Speak, and I follow thee.
And each wild flower the bee,
Speak, Voice divine, I follow,
Speak, and I follow thee.
| Poems by James Rhoades | |