But in repose,—
Not in the rush
But in the hush.
From the cogent lash
Of the cloud-herd wind
The low clouds dash,
Blown headlong, blind;
But beyond, the great blue
Looks moveless through.
O'er the loud world sweep
But in repose,—
Not in the rush
But in the hush.
From the cogent lash
Of the cloud-herd wind
The low clouds dash,
Blown headlong, blind;
But beyond, the great blue
Looks moveless through.
O'er the loud world sweep