I knew my blood-stained conscience—
My reeking rowels were whitened.
I saw the line of Sections
Fade dim and die away.
And Phœnix-like, from fire and hate,
A reunited nation
Rose up to bless her children,
Forever and for aye.
THE MICROBE
The Microbe said—“There is no Man—
I know there may not be:
I cannot hear his voice that sings—
I cannot see his arm that swings—
I cannot feel his mind that flings
My earth-born destiny.”
The Man-Child said—“There is no God—
I know there may not be:
I cannot pause and meet His eye—
I cannot see His form on high—
I only know an empty sky
Stares mocking back at me.”
THE SEAS
Purple seas and garnet seas, emerald seas and blue,
Foaming seas and frothing seas spraying rainbow dew:
Laughing seas and chaffing seas, gay in the morning light,
Endless seas and bendless seas ayawn in the starless night.
Seas that reach o’er the long white beach
Where the clean-washed pebbles roll,
And the nodding groves and the coral coves
And the deep-toned voices toll.
Seas that lift the broken drift
And crash through the crag-lined fjord—
Seas that cut the channel’s rut
With the thrust of a mighty sword.
Seas that brood in silent mood
When the midnight stars are set—
Seas that roar as a charging boar
Till the rails of the bridge run wet.