 | The poems of Celia Thaxter |  |
AT THE BREAKERS' EDGE
Through the wide sky thy north wind's thunder roars
Resistless, till no cloud is left to flee,
And down the clear, cold heaven unhindered pours
Thine awful moonlight on the winter sea.
Resistless, till no cloud is left to flee,
And down the clear, cold heaven unhindered pours
Thine awful moonlight on the winter sea.
The vast, black, raging spaces, torn and wild,
With an insensate fury answer back
To the gale's challenge; hurrying breakers, piled
Each over each, roll through the glittering track.
With an insensate fury answer back
To the gale's challenge; hurrying breakers, piled
Each over each, roll through the glittering track.
I shudder in the terror of thy cold,
As buffeted by the fierce blast I stand,
Watching that shining path of bronzèd gold,
With solemn, shadowy rocks on either hand;
As buffeted by the fierce blast I stand,
Watching that shining path of bronzèd gold,
With solemn, shadowy rocks on either hand;
While at their feet, ghastly and white as death,
The cruel, foaming billows plunge and rave.
O Father! where art Thou? My feeble breath
Cries to Thee through the storm of wind and wave.
The cruel, foaming billows plunge and rave.
O Father! where art Thou? My feeble breath
Cries to Thee through the storm of wind and wave.
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The cry of all thy children since the first
That walked thy planets' myriad paths among;
The cry of all mankind whom doubt has cursed,
In every clime, in every age and tongue.
That walked thy planets' myriad paths among;
The cry of all mankind whom doubt has cursed,
In every clime, in every age and tongue.
Thou art the cold, the swift fire that consumes;
Thy vast, unerring forces never fail;
And Thou art in the frailest flower that blooms,
As in the breath of this tremendous gale.
Thy vast, unerring forces never fail;
And Thou art in the frailest flower that blooms,
As in the breath of this tremendous gale.
Yet, though thy laws are clear as light, and prove
Thee changeless, ever human weakness craves
Some deeper knowledge for our human love
That looks with sad eyes o'er its wastes of graves,
Thee changeless, ever human weakness craves
Some deeper knowledge for our human love
That looks with sad eyes o'er its wastes of graves,
And hungers for the dear hands softly drawn,
One after one, from out our longing grasp.
Dost Thou reach out for them? In the sweet dawn
Of some new world thrill they within thy clasp?
One after one, from out our longing grasp.
Dost Thou reach out for them? In the sweet dawn
Of some new world thrill they within thy clasp?
Ah! what am I, thine atom, standing here
In presence of thy pitiless elements,
Daring to question thy great silence drear,
No voice may break to lighten our suspense!
In presence of thy pitiless elements,
Daring to question thy great silence drear,
No voice may break to lighten our suspense!
Thou only, infinite Patience, that endures
Forever! Blind and dumb I cling to Thee.
Slow glides the bitter night, and silent pours
Thine awful moonlight on the winter sea.
Forever! Blind and dumb I cling to Thee.
Slow glides the bitter night, and silent pours
Thine awful moonlight on the winter sea.
| The poems of Celia Thaxter | |