Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
At Point Lobos
By Charles Warren Stoddard (18431909)C
No flake of cloud ’twixt heaven and me;
No mist athwart the Golden Gate:
The hearty sun doth wilfully
His profuse beams precipitate.
On unswept sands, where breakers reel
In splendid curves, and pile their foam
In spongy hills, that slow congeal,
And dulse and drift-wood find a home.
Within the hazy parapet
That belts the horizon: in glee
I count the fitful puffs that fret
The eternal levels of the sea.
And pant unceasingly beneath
Their silken coverings, that cringe,
As flecked with swirls of froth, they seethe,
And whip, and flutter to a fringe.
Like shadows; far out from the land
Gray gulls slide up against the blue;
One shining spar is sudden manned
By squadrons of their wrecking crew.
I cannot hear its voices shrill:
I little heed its gains and greeds:
Here is my song, where waters spill
Their liquid strophes in the reeds.
Whatever soils the world with care:
I see the listless waters toss,—
I track the swift lark through the air,—
I lie with sunlight on the moss.
Across the desert of bright sky,
And burly winds are following
The trailing pilgrims, as they fly
Over the grassy hills of spring.
What princess journeying to woo
In the rich Orient? I am thrilled
With spice and odor they imbue,—
I feed upon their manna spilled!
To tarry and invite the wind
To my embrace: by curious spell
It quickens me with praises kind,—
’T is Ariel that blows his shell!
Descending, he his love renews,
Delighting daisy colonies
That gloss them with the lustrous ooze
Of meadows steeped in ecstasies.
The tumbling hills, in browns and reds,
And gray sand-hillocks, everywhere
Are buried in the mist that sheds
Its subtle snow upon the air.
Recalls his spirits from the deep,—
They cross the wave with stealthy tread,
Their shadows down upon me sweep,—
And day is past, and joy is fled.
Their warning to the ships without:
The dripping sails are reefed and furled,
The pilots sound and grope about,—
The Gate is barred against the world!