fter the winds there is surcease;
Take courage, heart, and be at peace;
The printless beach, all combed and shining,
In beauty lies with its windrow fleece.
Impetuous as a torrent's speed
White horses raced this watery mead,
With manes of chrysoprase aflowing,
Each neighing loud to its neighbour steed.
The wastes that finger pebbly shores,
Unplowed by ship nor cut by oars,
His music wake as sweet as attar,
And flash in light as the heavenly floors.
illed oft with portents, oft withdrawn,
My inward skies, from earliest dawn
To this full hour, have borne their witness
Of one who out of the darkness shone.
The soul is dowered with awful things,
Mystic as sound of unseen wings,—
The sense of God, of Law, of Duty,
Of Life, and Destiny. Signet rings
Flash on these fingers of one hand—
The Hand of God! The mean, the grand,
Tremble beneath the fearsome covert
Till lurid sky with the Rainbow's spanned.