Measureless: 22 -

For thou art measureless as are the seas:
Thy soul is as the solemn waters grey
When ships traverse their spaces day by day
And mark their colour deepen with the breeze.
Blue now they are, afar from rocks and trees;
So thou art boundless, and thy spirit partakes
The silent force of silent mountain-lakes,
And all the passionate unrest of these.

When the storm strikes thee lo! thou art divine.
Thy waves climb upward, seeking the dark sky,
And I stoop downward, yearning to be thine,
And rustle with my soul through mountain-pine,
Or in the depth of thy blue shadows lie
Cloudlike, till all thy moans are one with mine.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.