Joaquin Miller's Poems | ||
VI
And oh, such sea-shell tints of lightHigh o'er those wide sea-doors of dawn!
Sail, sail the world for that one sight,
Then satisfied, let time begone.
147
Bright candles, tipped like tasseled corn,
The holy virgin, maiden morn,
Arrayed in woven gold and white.
Put by the harp—hush minstrelsy;
Nor bard or bird has yet been heard
To sing this scene, this sea.
Joaquin Miller's Poems | ||