Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920.
Frances Cornford18861960Preëxistence
I
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.