The roaring torrent, on its urgent way, Or placid river, winding through soft fields, Moves on and ever onward, day by day, Till, drawn by mystic power, itself it yields Unto the Sea. The sparkling wavelets, breaking on the shore, Or hungry billows, lashed to raging foam, Creep up, engulf the strand, then back once more The flood returns unto its ocean home, At call of Tide. Beneath the soil, all hid in darksome earth, Or there, beneath a crushing weight of stone, Lie scattered seeds that soon to life give birth: Pierced now the soil; the shattered rocks lie strewn: Life seeks the Light. The planets sweep upon their trackless way; While ages come and go, they still endure; Nor ever from their ordered path they stray, Held fast by bands invisible, but sure Unto their Sun. So I, too, feel in me the mystic call That stirs my heart and draws me, Love, to thee. Thou art my Sea, my Tide, my Light, my Sun, -- my All; I am thy slave -- I would not now be free For evermore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: TOM MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE VISION OF JUDGEMENT by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TO MY FATHER by WILLIAM SYDNEY GRAHAM THE BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST by RUDYARD KIPLING MODERN LOVE: 17 by GEORGE MEREDITH ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER by JOHN MILTON THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: MACROMICROS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |