REMEMBER how you piled the driftwood high Upon the sand that night? The silence swept Down with the darkness, and a slow fog crept Upon us from the sea, and stood close by, Walling us in with quiet; till your spark Made all the hidden magic that had slept In dead dry timbers wake, so that it leapt In the clear flame, and shattered all the dark! Then were strange colors of the changing sea Set forth in fire,—and suddenly we knew In our small vision all the tyranny Of storm,—and the far calm of placid blue,— And in a breathless moment, we could feel The vast sea-creatures move against our keel. |