Poems (Van Rensselaer)/His Grave who loved the Sea
Appearance
HIS GRAVE WHO LOVED THE SEA
(1894)Lie here, lie here! The dogwood-tree
That spreads above these graves,
Not far, not far away can see,
On paths of shining waves,
The coastwise sails pass to and fro,
And outward the great steamers go
With smoky pennants of farewell.
In this green shadowy spot,
Where pain and restlessness are not,
And sorrow ne'er befell,
Thy fathers sleep.
Here is a cabin, strait like theirs and deep.
Here thou shalt dwell,
And thy dear form shall be
Companioned by the sea's fidelity.
Lie still and dream in this safe bourn of ours.
That spreads above these graves,
Not far, not far away can see,
On paths of shining waves,
The coastwise sails pass to and fro,
And outward the great steamers go
With smoky pennants of farewell.
In this green shadowy spot,
Where pain and restlessness are not,
And sorrow ne'er befell,
Thy fathers sleep.
Here is a cabin, strait like theirs and deep.
Here thou shalt dwell,
And thy dear form shall be
Companioned by the sea's fidelity.
Lie still and dream in this safe bourn of ours.
The sun that strikes upon the turf
Through whitening screen of dogwood flowers,
A mile away strikes whitening surf;
It draws in autumn from the ocean's breast
The rain that falls upon thy place of rest
Through reddening dogwood leaves,
In winter-time the hail and snow
That bend the naked branches low.
The blast that sobs and grieves
Amid the raindrops and the hail,
Speaks the wild words of an Atlantic gale;
When it has passed,
The gladder winds, that whistle and that sing,
A greeting to thy peaceful harbor bring
From rushing keel and bending mast
Wet with Atlantic spray.
Through whitening screen of dogwood flowers,
A mile away strikes whitening surf;
It draws in autumn from the ocean's breast
The rain that falls upon thy place of rest
Through reddening dogwood leaves,
In winter-time the hail and snow
That bend the naked branches low.
The blast that sobs and grieves
Amid the raindrops and the hail,
Speaks the wild words of an Atlantic gale;
When it has passed,
The gladder winds, that whistle and that sing,
A greeting to thy peaceful harbor bring
From rushing keel and bending mast
Wet with Atlantic spray.
Here day by day
The breezes and the blasts will bring to thee
Sounds of the farther and the farthest sea:
Lie quiet, listen, and thy dreaming ear
The loud salute shall hear
Of tangled surf on boreal rock and sand,
Of rhythmic, cadenced surf on tropic strand;
From distant waves will come the cry
Of curlew and of petrel; nearer by,
Beach-birds will call to thee; and overhead,
On slanted wing above thy bed,
The gull will be thy messenger.
From her
Of sunset and of sunrise thou shalt know;
The wild-fowl, migrant, their report will bring
Of north, of south, in autumn and in spring,
Of coming and of going of the snow;
And every wandering air will yield
The faint fresh scent from shore-side field
And bordering thicket near the tall beach-grass—
The breath of clover-blows,
Of swamp-azalea and the meadow-rose,
Sweet-fern and bayberry and sassafras,
Of sun-warmed savin-tree and pine,
And, delicate, divine,
The sweet, sweet, airy wine
From blossoms of the vagrant grape.
The breezes and the blasts will bring to thee
Sounds of the farther and the farthest sea:
Lie quiet, listen, and thy dreaming ear
The loud salute shall hear
Of tangled surf on boreal rock and sand,
Of rhythmic, cadenced surf on tropic strand;
From distant waves will come the cry
Of curlew and of petrel; nearer by,
Beach-birds will call to thee; and overhead,
On slanted wing above thy bed,
The gull will be thy messenger.
From her
Of sunset and of sunrise thou shalt know;
The wild-fowl, migrant, their report will bring
Of north, of south, in autumn and in spring,
Of coming and of going of the snow;
And every wandering air will yield
The faint fresh scent from shore-side field
And bordering thicket near the tall beach-grass—
The breath of clover-blows,
Of swamp-azalea and the meadow-rose,
Sweet-fern and bayberry and sassafras,
Of sun-warmed savin-tree and pine,
And, delicate, divine,
The sweet, sweet, airy wine
From blossoms of the vagrant grape.
So sleeping, dearest, thou shalt shape
Within thy narrow home
Dream-tales of happiness to last
Until the round world's voyaging is past;
For thy dear dust, who loved the sea,
Companioned by its messengers shall be
Until the warm earth groweth numb,
And the recurrent tides of time become
Immobile oceans of eternity.
Within thy narrow home
Dream-tales of happiness to last
Until the round world's voyaging is past;
For thy dear dust, who loved the sea,
Companioned by its messengers shall be
Until the warm earth groweth numb,
And the recurrent tides of time become
Immobile oceans of eternity.