 | The poet, the fool and the faeries |  |
I
On a Headland
White sails and sunlight on a sapphire sea,Whence, rank on rank, the battling billows come
In emerald onslaught, plume on flying plume,
Trampling the shore with epic ecstasy.
This is God's poem, that, with mystery
And marvel of music, strikes man's spirit dumb,
Addressing it, in voices of the foam,
With thoughts and dreams of immortality.
Long have I stood upon this rock, that brows
Old Ocean's azure, and within its deep
Beheld God's image, and divined such awe
As one, admitted to his Father's house,
Feels, when from innermost chambers to'ards him sweep
The solemn splendors of invested Law.
| The poet, the fool and the faeries | |