Classic Poem

“Hence to the sea! souls true and tried,
Plunge in the Gods' baptismal tide!
Thence to Demeter's temple-stair
And learn Life's deeper secrets there!”

The Prophet speaks; they hear the call,
They rise and leave thy sacred wall,
Thy homes and haunts of sweet renown!
Queen City of the Violet Crown!

Onward with heart-kept vows they creep
Round the grey, olive-shaded steep—
Through ways that beckon lovingly
Down to old Ægeus' fabled sea;

That sea that shines and shakes afar,
Inlaid with many an island star,
Poseidôn's bright, rock-jewelled band
Clasping his loved, lost Attic land.

“Hence to the sea!” that cry once more
Comes, organ-voiced, from surf and shore,
Comes through the hum and hurrying feet,
The toil and tumult of the street.

From each dull brick I learn the call
Flashed as from old Belshazzar's wall;
Market and church and street and store
Echo the mandate, “To the shore!”

With Care's sharp thorn-wreath daily crowned,
Our wave-girt city hears the sound,
And stoops with toil-worn diadem
To touch the healing Ocean's hem;

And take new strength from him who erst
With his waves rocked her, swathed and nursed,
Who now with blue, large, wondering eye
Hails her, his Venice throned on high.

“Hence to the sea!” the summons came
O'er fields adust, down skies of flame;
I heard, and fondly turned to thee,
O gentle, glad, all-gathering Sea!

I saw thee spread but yestermorn,
As though for Venus newly born,
A couch of satin soft and blue,
O'er which the sun-showers dimpling flew.

To-day how changed! the loud winds rise,
The storm her sounding shuttle plies,
Weaves a white water-shroud beneath,
And all the sea-marge answers, “Death.”

Through sheeted spray what sights appear!
Faces look out and shapes of fear;
Mad through the trampled surge abroad
Revels and reels the Demon-god;

Whilst o'er his shouts that wax and wane
Swells one long monotone of pain,
As o'er some city's rabble yell
Tolleth a great cathedral bell.

Is this the deep-sea peace I sought?
Calm days by holy shores of Thought,
Airs, that might Hope's own clarion fill
With tones divine of “Peace, be still”?

And yet to me these tides that flow
Are but as clouds o'er worlds below,
Worlds which look up to skies, as we
Look to our heaven's o'erhanging sea.

Not on that sea-floor, but beneath
Its snowy shroud and funeral wreath
Peace dwells. What kingdoms calm, and fair,
And changeless, greet my guesses there!

Seeds of the New that is to be
Sleep in the ooze of yon grey sea;
Life, Love, all strange and speechless things,
To crown the heart's imaginings,—

Rich hills, green-skirted, forest-zoned,
Cliffs on which slumbrous Powers are throned,
High-pillared shades, with splendor laned;
By ruthless woodman unprofaned;

Close-latticed lights, cool shadowings,
And murmurs of all pleasant things,
Fountains that chime away their cares
In liquid lapse down crystal stairs;

Glades which a tender twilight fling
Like the green mist of groves in spring;
Blameless white sands, and seas of pearl,
Where young-eyed Dreams their sails unfurl;

Doors opening from afar with tone
Of mystic flutes in musings lone,
Low chantings thrilled through dim-lit seas,
Old harp-notes, half-heard prophecies;

Pale temples veiled in sapphire gloom
Where the great ghosts of glorious doom
In transport list, till heaven-born Fate
Shall ope her Sire's tremendous gate;

Caves where the gentle, gracious Hours,
Who bring all good things, weave strange flowers,
And faint Hopes wait in Lethè grots,
Brow-bound with fresh forget-me-nots;

Genii, low dwellers of the glen,
And souls forlorn that shall be men,
Mute lips that once have kissed the wrong,
Which time shall purge and light with song;

Strong angels, waiting for the day,
When they shall shoulder seas away,
And show to God new blessed hills
Starred with undying daffodils;

When Earth, with bridal morning strewn,
Like a pure goddess grandly hewn,
Shall, re-baptized and born again,
Rise from her centuries' trance of pain.

Thus in thy heart, O Deep, are stored
Kings' treasure-chambers, unexplored;
Thy terrors, tumults, fears are found
But on thy surface, in thy sound.

“Hence to the sea!” I heard that call,
And left the world's loud palace-wall
To find thee, O thou vast Unknown,
By shores of mystery and of moan.

Yet, nameless Dread, that seem'st but so,
Calm are thy depths of peace below;
Roll dark or bright, O Spirit Sea,
Why should I fear to sink in thee?