William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920.
Storm and Sun
O L
Of the trampled sea move thunderously, and cast
Their wrath on the dark shore—let us set out again,
Let us make seaward, and be gone at last.
Around us,—forward—forward—, and leave behind
The little frets and the fevers, just we two alone,
Heart-free, as once in days long out of mind!
Our dusty ways! The Eternal ’round us rolled
Shall wash us white of the little sins and fears that sever,
Lave us, and leave us lovers as of old—
Fall from us like a robe, the martyrdom
Of life on the daily rack: there shall be no Tomorrow,
Nor Yesterday, but heaven and ocean.—Sweetheart, come
Your cheek, all fiery now—O let us press
Forward, the changeful furrows of the flashing foam between,
Our glowing bodies into the Loveliness!
Of the surf beats down our foreheads.” Line on line
Rises the majesty of the sea to Oppose our path
With tingling bodies through the stinging brine;
Exults fiercely for joy, the waves cry out
And shout in answering joy, the salt and savage spray
Showers our shoulders in the exuberant bout,
Receive us and rise, the foam of the breaker’s crest
Unfolds like a flower and dies of its kiss, and subsides, and follows,
Laughing and loving, where our limbs have pressed:
We bow, and from the rolling billow’s might
Lift glimmering eyelids up, while hearts and lips in chorus
Mingle with winds and waters their delight.
Before the wrath of the wings of the wind, the sea
Makes moan, the inconsolable, pale waters are aghast,
And shudder with dread of their own immensity.
Sinks down in supplication, and the sleep
Of the Supreme is stirred to whispers everywhere—
The dark and divine sorrows of the Deep.
Now broods the silence, heaven holds its breath,—
Where the feet of the winds made music far out to the lone sea-line,—
The rapture and awe and silence as of death!
And inland reaches! Now, far out, we roam
The desert and dumb vast of the dread sea that urges
Our fitful course far out beyond the foam,
Steadily, while the fluent glooms and grave
Lap us and lift, repulse, and pause—the wild and veering
Will of the loving and reluctant wave.
Lifts in long lines of beauty, the supreme
Bosom with its vast love rises resistlessly,
And lapses in long lines into its dream.
And void to where the huddled waters crowd
The brim—along the floor of heaven’s darkened throne
Moves, like a ghost, the shadow of a cloud.
Vanish and veer, upon the chilly rim
Kindle like crowns the cloud-crests along the east arrayed
And swords of flame, like swords of the seraphim.
Dilates, and into a glory of glittering gold
Break the pale greens and purples; the sun in heaven’s height
Unveils himself for all men to behold
With fire and color—the heavens roll back their gloom,
From zone to zone, from the zenith to the everlasting floor,
Reaches one resonant and radiant room—
Sheer gold and shimmering amber: where we take
The lips of the wave with laughter your eyes are turned to mine,
Sweetheart, your eyes that burn for beauty’s sake.
Trouble your lips; dumbly, dumbly we know
Something starry and strange, that the world’s wheel has broken,
Come back to us out of the long-ago.
Its fire to flowers! Put out your hand, and move
Forward into the radiant far reaches ’round us burning,
Darling, as once in the old days of love.
Hallows our foreheads, the exceeding might
Of moving waters around us is music, and on our faces
The glory of God is shed, His holy light!