An English Madonna | ||
140
XCVII. LOVE.
The sea is very strong.—What is the one thing stronger?
Than the vast fiery sweep of passionate storm-wind longer,
And mightier than the waves
As o'er the rocks they leap in thundering white-lipped millions
Or surge far out at sea by trillions and quadrillions
And chant death-choruses o'er countless graves.
Than the vast fiery sweep of passionate storm-wind longer,
And mightier than the waves
As o'er the rocks they leap in thundering white-lipped millions
Or surge far out at sea by trillions and quadrillions
And chant death-choruses o'er countless graves.
What is the power that o'er the measureless sea-laughter
Triumphs, and scorns the scorn that shouts and follows after
Its fair triumphal feet?
Love: raising nigher to God the love-song of the willows
Than all the angriest chant of the sinister billows,
And nigher to God love's true heart's humblest beat.
Triumphs, and scorns the scorn that shouts and follows after
Its fair triumphal feet?
Love: raising nigher to God the love-song of the willows
Than all the angriest chant of the sinister billows,
And nigher to God love's true heart's humblest beat.
An English Madonna | ||