Classic Poem

THE lightning's tide in the west surges,
Foams, far, through the clouds, and dies.
The dim hill-wood in its wake emerges —
Then in darkness lies.
The wind in the leaves and one lone cricket
Leaven the sullen night with sound;
And slowly, slowly the East urges
The moon to her pale round.
And I wish I knew, as the stars know, I wish I knew where peace is found.

The valley lights with homely burning
Sadden the gloom, and numb far rays
Of a wan train are wanly turning
Toward unreckoned ways.
The windy firefly constellations
Beaten to earth lie wet and still.
And a sudden meteor, heaven-spurning,
Seems its life to spill.
And I wish I knew, as the dead know, I wish I knew God's utter will.