WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
O’er the rock of all eternal—
Over sacred soil ye’ve trod;
Whither king and priest and people
Make their mockery of God.
Like the rolling of an organ
Down the mighty nave of Time,
In the hush of Things Supernal
Ye have sung of Things Sublime.
Living lilt beyond the starlight—
Living light beyond the spheres—
With a calm majestic cadence
Came the call of all the years.
As a pause across the storm-path—
As the swaying starlit sea—
As the faith of little children—
Ye have writ ETERNITY.
KING BAMBOO
A BALLAD OF THE EAST INDIES
I build them boats and houses—
I check their mountain roads—
I bear their double burdens—
The squeaking, creaking loads.
Adown the broken hill sides
My long, high pipings run,
To bring their water to them
Adripping ’neath the sun.
And when from spring and river
The weary climbers strain,
’Tis I who hold the nectar
To bring them life again.
I am the quivering bridges
That span the deep ravine—
I am the matted fences
That twist and wind between.