 | Sonnets |  |
96
THE COMING DAY.
IN dream I saw a vision of the world
Caught in mid-space, a heavy-laden ship
Panting and bounding in a squall's fierce grip,
Her hatches battened and her canvas furled,
Reeling on slippery crests of waves which swirled
From under her, and let her blindly dip
Into their clamorous caves beneath the whip
Of winds which on her hope defiance hurled.
Caught in mid-space, a heavy-laden ship
Panting and bounding in a squall's fierce grip,
Her hatches battened and her canvas furled,
Reeling on slippery crests of waves which swirled
From under her, and let her blindly dip
Into their clamorous caves beneath the whip
Of winds which on her hope defiance hurled.
But lo, when that swift squall had swept ahead,
I marvelled at the way the ship had won,
How, straight in doubt and darkness she had sped,
Borne by the storm-winged messenger of One
Unnameable; and last, I saw her spread
All sail, and signal back the rising sun.
I marvelled at the way the ship had won,
How, straight in doubt and darkness she had sped,
Borne by the storm-winged messenger of One
Unnameable; and last, I saw her spread
All sail, and signal back the rising sun.
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