WHEN THE TIDE COMES IN. HEN the tide comes in, WH At once the shore and sea begin Together to be glad. What the tide has brought No man has asked, no man has sought: What other tides have had The deep sand hides away; The last bit of the wrecks they wrought When the tide goes out, The shore looks dark and sad with doubt. The landmarks are all lost. For the tide to turn Men patient wait, men restless yearn. When the tide comes in In hearts, at once the hearts begin Together to be glad. What the tide has brought They do not care, they have not sought. All joy they ever had The new joy multiplies; All pain by which it may be bought Seems paltry sacrifice. MY BARNACLES. When the tide goes out, The hearts are wrung with fear and doubt : Will the tide return? In restless questioning they yearn They weep, on separate ways. 65 H. H. MY BARNACLES. NOT those whose life is hid with God In the unfathomed sea; Not those which gleam so milky white As o'er her side I softly lean, And watch the life below, The strange fair things which there abide, Nor call I mine the crowds that cling Mine are the little creatures left It goes the hot sun scorches them, Tread them to death, as if no life It comes it wooes, it kisses them; And these are mine by lover's right; Down to its edge with scooping hands And dip the briny waters up, And bear them back to give To these wee things that long for them As dying men to live. How eagerly their shells dispart To take the moisture in! And do I hear a tiny laugh, The faintest, merriest din? What think they of the sudden draught? A little wave sent on before And when they know it is not that From the wave-beaten strand? THE LIGHTHOUSE. Believe it not they know the step Better than maidens know the feet They take, with thanks, the human help, For the vast love to come and fill So wait our souls on Thee, O God! Come as the ocean comes to give Its energy divine; Fold us in Thy encircling arms, And make us wholly Thine. 67 J. W. Chadwick. THE LIGHTHOUSE. TEADFAST, serene, immovable, the same STEADFA Year after year, through all the silent night Burns on for evermore that quenchless flame, Shines on that inextinguishable light! It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace; It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, And hold it up and shake it like a fleece. The startled waves leap over it; the storm Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din Dashes himself against the glare and dies. A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, "Sail on!" it says, "sail on, ye stately ships! "BREAK, BREAK, BREAK." BREAK, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O sea! And I would that my tongue could utter Oh, well for the fisherman's boy That he shouts with his sister at play! |