Surely we knew our darkling shore. None doubted that continual roar Of gray waves seething, cold and huge, None misconceived that beach, those reeds Wreathed in the dark, dead, dripping weeds. No fiction there, no subterfuge. Came she then, borne from such sea-bed? We think so. Clouds in violent red Shone on her warmly, flank and breast, And some remember how the foam Swirled at her ankles. Other some Look shrewd and smile behind the rest. She gave us beauty where our eyes Had seen need only. We grew wise, For how could wisdom fail the gift Bestowed in that superb undress, Value devised as loveliness From ocean's riches, ocean's thrift? But, Love, then must it be the sea That makes you credible? Must we Bear all to one phenomenon? True, certainty is our seacoast, The landmark of the clearly lost Whose gathering waves drive on and on. Great queen, an ignorant poet's heart Is all his faith, yet still his art Can prick your source to tell the truth. So teach him, lady. Then always Among the people here who praise Your powers, one will be Carruth. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BURNING BABE by ROBERT SOUTHWELL EYE-WITNESS by FREDERICK RIDGELY TORRENCE SHADOWS by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE PILGRIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD UNBELIEVABLE by EDITH GRACE BERKNESS TO MARY SINTON LEITCH, POET AND FRIEND by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |