 | A Lost Epic and Other Poems |  |
IV.—THE WATERS.
“And he sent forth a dove from him to see if the waters were
abated from off the face of the ground; but the dove found no
rest for the sole of her foot.”
Around the globe one wave, from pole to pole,
Rolled on, and found no shore to break its roll.
One awful water mirrored everywhere
The silent, blue, illimitable air;
And glassed at one same hour the midnight moon,
Sunrise, and sunset, and the sun at noon.
Rolled on, and found no shore to break its roll.
One awful water mirrored everywhere
The silent, blue, illimitable air;
And glassed at one same hour the midnight moon,
Sunrise, and sunset, and the sun at noon.
Beneath the noontide sun 'twas still as death.
Within the dawn no living thing drew breath.
Beneath the cold white moon the cold blue wave
Sealed with an icy hush the old world's grave.
But, hark! upon the sunset's edge were heard,
Afar and faint, the cries of beast and bird.
Within the dawn no living thing drew breath.
Beneath the cold white moon the cold blue wave
Sealed with an icy hush the old world's grave.
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Afar and faint, the cries of beast and bird.
Afar, between the sunset and the dark,
The lions had awakened in the Ark.
Across the great red splendour white wings flew,
Weary of wandering where no green leaf grew;
Weary of searching for that unfound shore
From which the Raven had returned no more.
The lions had awakened in the Ark.
Across the great red splendour white wings flew,
Weary of wandering where no green leaf grew;
Weary of searching for that unfound shore
From which the Raven had returned no more.
And as the white wings laboured slowly back,
And down the huge orb sank, a speck of black
Stood fluttering in the circle of the sun,—
While the long billows, passing one by one,
Lifted and lowered in the crimson blaze
A dead queen of the old and evil days.
And down the huge orb sank, a speck of black
Stood fluttering in the circle of the sun,—
While the long billows, passing one by one,
Lifted and lowered in the crimson blaze
A dead queen of the old and evil days.
One gold-clasped arm lay beautiful and bare;
The gold of power gleamed in her floating hair;
Her jewelled raiment in the glassy swell
Glittered; and ever as she rose and fell,
And o'er his reddened claws the ripple broke,
The Raven fluttered with uneasy croak.
The gold of power gleamed in her floating hair;
Her jewelled raiment in the glassy swell
Glittered; and ever as she rose and fell,
And o'er his reddened claws the ripple broke,
The Raven fluttered with uneasy croak.
| A Lost Epic and Other Poems | |