The poems of Madison Cawein | ||
69
MOONRISE AT SEA
I
With lips that had hushed all their furyOf foam and of winds that were strewn,
Of storm and of turbulent hurry,
The ocean sighed; heralding soon
A ship of miraculous glory,
Of pearl and of fire—the moon.
II
And up from the East, with a slippingAnd shudder and clinging of light,
With a loos'ning of clouds and a dipping,
Outbound for the Havens of Night,
With a silence of sails and a dripping,
The vessel came, wonderful white.
70
III
Then heaven and ocean were sprinkledWith splendor; for every sheet
And spar, and its hollow hull twinkled
With mother-of-pearl. And the feet
Of spirits, that followed it, crinkled
The billows that under it beat.
The poems of Madison Cawein | ||