Earth's first days and nights were fled;

THE FOURTH DAY

 

As when the tideless, barren waters lay

About the borders of the early earth;

And small, unopened buds dreamt not the worth

Of their incomparable gold array;

And tall young hemlocks were not set a-sway

By any wind; and orchards knew no mirth

At Autumn time, nor plenteousness from dearth;

And night and morning, then, were the first day,

--Even so was I. Yet, as I slept last night,

My soul surged towards thy love's controlling power;

And, quickened now with the sun's splendid might,

Breaks into unimaginable flower,

Knowing thy soul knows this for beacon-light--

The culmination of the harvest hour.

VICTORY

 

Because your strife and labour have been vain,

Ye who have striven, shall I forego, forget

The far-off goal where to my feet were set

In the old days when life was first made plain?

Upward in April, who, meeting with the rain,

Did turn, the first shy mayflowers still are met?

I who have sought, yea, who am seeking yet,

What pain have I like unto your sore pain?

So let me go as one yearning, that braves,

With shipmen that have knowledge of the sea,

The wind disastrous and the ponderous waves

(Because his love dwells in some far countree),

Crying, "Not one of all your million graves

Is deep enough to keep my love from me!"

THE LAST STORM

 

From north, from east, the strong wind hurries down

Against the window-pane the sleet rings fast;