SOME days I tend with careful sun and showers, But hungry time demands their fruit of me, And I alone possess my wasted hours, Which are the children of infinity. I dare rejoice that I have offered gifts To many a deity of wood and clay, And many a house have built where sea sand drifts, And many a ship lost on the ocean-way. I dare rejoice at trespassing and tears And at the doomed Niagaras of the soul That, flowing faster as the chasm nears, Go down in thunder, knowing not their goal; For by their depth of wastage I can tell How deep the source, how inexhaustible. |