The grass made murmur to the tree:
“My days a little time are fair;
But oh! thy brooding years to share—
The centuries that foster thee!”
Ere died the wind the tree had said:
“O mountain marvellous and strong,
The aeons of thine age—how long,
When I and all my kin lie dead!”
The mountain spake: “O sea! thy strength
Forevermore I shall not face.
At last I sink to thine embrace;
Thy waves await my ramparts’ length.”
The deep gave moan: “O stars supreme!
Your eyes shall see me mute in death.
Before your gaze I fade like breath
Of vapors in a mortal’s dream.”
Then bore the Void a choral cry,
Descendent from the starry throng:
“A little, and our ancient song
Dies at thy throne, Eternity!”
Then, silence on the heavenly Deep,
Wherein that music sank unheard,
As shuts the midnight on a word
Said by a dreamer in his sleep.
MEMORY
She stands beside the ocean of the Past,
A diver. Pearls and hydras can she bring,
Shells for the child and crystals for the king.
Prone on her reefs the sea-essaying mast
And keels that dared the hurricane are cast—
Trophies of tides invincible that swing
Around the islands where the Sirens sing,
The magic of whose song is hers at last.
Some shadow of the glory she restores,
Tho’ wave and wind devour the Ships of Dream;
For many mark her ere the fall of night,
When the surf’s sound is mighty on her shores,
Singing, as wildly on her bosom gleam
The sea-dews, and the rubies of the light.