O wondrous Faces that upstart
In this Strange Country!
O Souls, O Shades, that become a part
Of my Soul and me!
What are ye working so fast and fleet,
O Humankind?
“We are building Cities for those whose feet
Are coming behind;
“Our stay is short, we must fly again
From this Strange Country;
But others are growing, women and men,
Eternally!”
Child, what art thou? and what am I?
But a breaking wave!
Rising and rolling on, we hie
To the shore of the grave.
I have come from a mystical Land of Light
To this Strange Country;
This dawn I came, I shall go to-night,
Ay me! ay me!
I hold my hand to my head and stand
’Neath the air’s blue arc,
I try to remember the mystical Land,
But all is dark.
And all around me swim Shapes like mine
In this Strange Country;—
They break in the glamour of gleams divine,
And they moan “Ay me!”
Like waves in the cold Moon’s silvern breath
They gather and roll,
Each crest of white is a birth or a death,
Each sound is a Soul.
Oh, whose is the Eye that gleams so bright
O’er this Strange Country?
It draws us along with a chain of light,
As the Moon the Sea!