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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE MIDNIGHT FERRY, by                    
First Line: I cried to my god
Last Line: Beneath the moon so cried the sea in pain.
Subject(s): Ferry Boats


I cried to my God,
Leaning above the rhythmic ferry's side:
Why do you stir my soul with churning yeast
Of fevered discontent?
With this vain struggle all my heart is spent --
If I be man or beast!
And whichsoe'er I be,
I earn your righteous rod!
Lo now! this twinkling sea,
Relapsing and resurging with the tide,
Is reckless in its beauty; the ships plod
Hither and thither, and the yellow moon
Dips toward the west unvexedly;
The pale stars swoon
In languid loveliness, and never thought nor care
Disturbs them in their blue and griefless lair.
Why am I thrall and all the world else free?
Then in my heart I heard the cry of the sea:
A million years the sun has sucked me forth
In viewless spirals through the burdened air --
East, west, the winds have borne me, south and north,
But to my hollow cave I come again.
I have guessed the sorrows of the earth and men,
And known all things: I have tracked ships mile by mile,
And heard the sailors singing in the south
Their homing song;
The stars have gazed on me the whole night long;
I have glassed the scaled ad sprawling crocodile,
And twitched and dandled to and fro
The Lotus-glow
By mud-black fields a-wash with the old Nile;
Within my heart gnarled monsters crawl
And build their nests far from the swing of tides,
Where the deep ocean pounds their shelly sides.
But, God, shall this be all?
My tongue is full of speech,
My heart of words, but inarticulate
I grope through man into a stumbling mouth!
Beauty must know itself or else it hath no soul.
Frame therefore thou my lips and teach
My aching mumble till it shall grow plain!
A thousand secrets I would prate
That I gave ear to where my gossiping currents roll;
But now there is not even the knowledge in me
That I am not free.

Beneath the moon so cried the sea in pain.





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