Surely He made His sea for solitude -- For sun-drenched noons, and for the rapt blue night, When the long surges rock in tranquil mood, And deck their quiet breasts with star dust bright. Surely He meant no heedless eye to see The veiled mist maidens whirl amid the spray, Or the white horses charging endlessly Embattled crags, that hold them still at bay. How does He bear this idle travesty, This clangor as of brazen horns, this flare Of lights that mock the high stars' majesty, This Comus rout, this haste to herd and stare? How does He bear the crowds that chase and brawl Like tangled fringe about a silken shawl? But hold! Is there, in all this multitude, One heart that feels, in the wide beaches' sweep, The wing-soft clasp, the watching eyes that brood -- Hears, in the diapason of the deep, The steadfast promise of eternity? Perhaps it was for this He made His sea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WISE WOMAN by SARA TEASDALE THE TIDE OF FAITH by MARY ANN EVANS SIMON LEGREE: NEGRO SERMON; MEMORIAL TO BOOKER T. WASHINGTON by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY BLESSING THE LIGHTS by ALTER ABELSON VULTURES by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM SPRING GLADNESS by JOHN BURROUGHS TO THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY PRINCE CHARLES by THOMAS CAMPION THE BOTHIE OF TOBER-NA-VUOLICH; A LONG VACATION PASTORAL by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |