SEEDTIME AND HARVEST.
No longer, when the cold and sterile moon
Paces her virgin watch across the sky,
Calling the hours of life's long afternoon,
Must I from out the deep in answer cry.
With rhythmic tides she swept the foreshoreland,
Whereon I often set my heart's desire,
Leaving a barren strip of watery sand,
A mirror for the moon's chaste silver fire.
For I have built a barrier 'gainst the sea:
No more the moon-swept tide my fruit devours;
The seed is set, and in security,
I watch the silent passage of life's hours.
May that sea-wall till harvest-time abide,
Steadfast against the ever restless tide.
Paces her virgin watch across the sky,
Calling the hours of life's long afternoon,
Must I from out the deep in answer cry.
With rhythmic tides she swept the foreshoreland,
Whereon I often set my heart's desire,
Leaving a barren strip of watery sand,
A mirror for the moon's chaste silver fire.
For I have built a barrier 'gainst the sea:
No more the moon-swept tide my fruit devours;
The seed is set, and in security,
I watch the silent passage of life's hours.
May that sea-wall till harvest-time abide,
Steadfast against the ever restless tide.
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