SERENE, indifferent of Fate, Thou sittest at the Western Gate; Upon thy heights so lately won Still slant the banners of the sun; Thou seest the white seas strike their tents, O Warder of two Continents! And scornful of the peace that flies Thy angry winds and sullen skies, Thou drawest all things, small or great, To thee, beside the Western Gate. O lion's whelp, that hidest fast In jungle growth of spire and mast, I know thy cunning and thy greed, Thy hard high lust and wilful deed, And all thy glory loves to tell Of specious gifts material. Drop down, O fleecy Fog, and hide Her sceptic sneer, and all her pride! Wrap her, O Fog, in gown and hood Of her Franciscan Brotherhood. Hide me her faults, her sin and blame; With thy gray mantle cloak her shame! So shall she, cowled, sit and pray Till morning bears her sins away. Then rise, O fleecy Fog, and raise The glory of her coming days; Be as the cloud that flecks the seas Above her smoky argosies. When forms familiar shall give place To stranger speech and newer face; When all her throes and anxious fears Lie hushed in the repose of years; When Art shall raise and Culture lift The sensual joys and meaner thrift, And all fulfilled the vision, we Who watch and wait shall never see, -- Who, in the morning of her race, Toiled fair or meanly in our place, -- But, yielding to the common lot, Lie unrecorded and forgot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WILLING MISTRESS by APHRA BEHN MENAPHON: SAMELA by ROBERT GREENE SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DAISY FRASER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ODE TO SILENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE MISTRESS; A SONG by JOHN WILMOT THE ROSEBUSH AND THE TRINITY by ALFRED BARRETT WHEN TWILIGHT COMES WITH DREAMS by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |