 | Caprices |  |
47
A MOOD
To Arthur Symons
The tide was weary as it came
Towards the shore this autumn eve:
It caught the sun's descending flame
And sighed and seemed too faint to grieve
Because the summer hasted to be gone
And all the days were done.
Towards the shore this autumn eve:
It caught the sun's descending flame
And sighed and seemed too faint to grieve
Because the summer hasted to be gone
And all the days were done.
The sea heaved languidly and rolled
Its purple breakers on the sand;
An infinite sadness manifold
Fell on the deep and quiet land;
The seamews rested on the dipping foam
And had no thought of home.
Its purple breakers on the sand;
An infinite sadness manifold
Fell on the deep and quiet land;
The seamews rested on the dipping foam
And had no thought of home.
48
The poppies shivered as the breeze
Went by and fell before it passed,
And from the cliff I heard the sea's
Faint requiem, the first and last,
Above the tomb of pleasures that were sped
And with the year lay dead.
Went by and fell before it passed,
And from the cliff I heard the sea's
Faint requiem, the first and last,
Above the tomb of pleasures that were sped
And with the year lay dead.
One with the season's languor, I
Lay long to watch the changing flight
Of colours in the dreary sky
Until the advent of the night,
While banks of cloud above the sea-line rose
And sorrow found repose.
Lay long to watch the changing flight
Of colours in the dreary sky
Until the advent of the night,
While banks of cloud above the sea-line rose
And sorrow found repose.
| Caprices | |