 | Poems by James Rhoades |  |
130
XVI.
[Ye that inhabit there above the sea!]
Ye that inhabit there above the sea!In all our storms holy and silent still,
My soul's soul from a place of boundless ill
Springs to you, sorely travailing to be free.
All night ye swim through heaven's immensity,
Beholding that which is: nothing can kill,
Or darkly blind you that ye should not see,
On Goodness, Truth, and Love unspeakable
Gazing enrapt—But I call from this Deep,
Where nothing real abideth—a dark place
Where Death is, and we cannot see God's face—
Where Silence comes not, nor the rest of sleep.
Yet, when mine eyes behold you, they can bless,
They bless and strive to that high saintliness.
| Poems by James Rhoades | |