  I.—AT THE EBBAlone upon the monotonous ocean's verge I take my stand, and view with heavy eye The grey wave rise. I hear its sullen surge, Its bubbling rush and sudden downward sigh.... My friends are dead ... there fades from me the light Of her warm face I loved; upon me stare In the dull noon or deadest hour of night The smiling lips and chill eyes of Despair. A light wind blows.... I hear the low wave steal In and collapse like a despondent breath. My life has ebbed: I neither see nor feel: I am suspended between life and death. Again the wave caves in. O, I am worn Smoother than any pebble on the beach! I would dissolve to that whence I was born, Or alway bide beyond the long wave's reach. O Will, thou only strengthener of man's heart When all is gone—love and the love of friends, When even Earth's comfort has become a part Of that futility nor breaks nor mends: Strengthen me now against these utmost wrongs; Stay my wrecked spirit within thy control, That men may find some fury in my songs Which, like strong wine, shall fortify the soul. Beneath Gold Cap, June, 1916. II.—ALONEThe grey wind and the grey sea Tossing under the long grey sky.... My heart is lonelier than the wind; My heart is emptier than the sky, And beats more heavily Than the cold surge beneath the gull, Wheeling with his reiterant cry Of loneliness.... All, all is lone: Alone!... And so am I. III.—THANKSGIVINGAmazement fills my heart to-night, Amaze and awful fears; I am a ship that sees no light, But blindly onward steers. Flung toward heaven's toppling rage, Sunk between steep and steep, A lost and wondrous fight I wage With the embattled deep. I neither know nor care at length Where drives the storm about; Only I summon all my strength And swear to ride it out. Yet give I thanks; despite these wars, My ship—though blindly blown, Long lost to sun or moon or stars— Still stands up alone. I need no trust in borrowed spars; My strength is yet my own. IV.—ANNIHILATEDUpon the sweltering sea's enormous round, Asmoke, adazzle, brown and brown and gold, A hushed light falls.... Then clouds without a sound Darken the sea within their curtain's fold. The sombre clouds through which the sick sun climbs Smoke slowly on. Below there is no breath. The long black beach turns livid. The sea chimes. I taste the fulness of my spirit's death. V.—SHUT OF NIGHTThe sea darkens. Waves roar and rush. The wind rises. The last birds haste. One star over eve's bitter flush Spills on the spouting waste. Loud and louder the darkened sea. The wind shrills on a monotone. Sky and deep, wrecked confusedly, Travail and cry as one. Long I look on the deepening sky, The chill star, the forlorn sea breaking; For what does my spirit cry? For what is my heart so aching? Is it home? but I have no home. Is it tears? but I no more weep. Is it love? love went by dumb. Is it sleep? but I would not sleep. Must I fare, then, in fear and fever On a journey become thrice far— Whose sun has gone down for ever, Whose night brings no guiding star? The wind roars, and an ashen beam Waving up shrinks away in haste. The waves crash. The star's trickling gleam Travels the warring waste. I look up. In the windy height The lone orb, serene and afar, Shakes with excess of her light.... Beauty, be thou my star! VI.—THE FULL HEARTAlone on the shore in the pause of the night-time I stand and I hear the long wind blow light; I view the constellations quietly, quietly burning; I hear the wave fall in the hush of the night. Long after I am dead, ended this bitter journey, Many another whose heart holds no light Shall your solemn sweetness, hush, awe, and comfort, O my companions, Wind, Waters, Stars, and Night. Near Gold Cap, 1916. VII.—SONNET: OUR DEADThey have not gone from us. O no! they are The inmost essence of each thing that is Perfect for us; they flame in every star; The trees are emerald with their presences. They are not gone from us; they do not roam The flaw and turmoil of the lower deep, But have now made the whole wide world their home, And in its loveliness themselves they steep. They fail not ever; theirs is the diurn Splendour of sunny hill and forest grave; In every rainbow's glittering drop they burn; They dazzle in the massed clouds' architrave; They chant on every wind, and they return In the long roll of any deep blue wave. VIII.—DELIVERANCEOut of the Night! out of the Night I come: Free at last: the whole world is my home: I have lost self: I look not on myself again, But if I do I see a man among men. Out of the Night! out of the Night, O Flesh: Soul I know not from Body within thy mesh: Accepting all that is, I cannot divide the same: I accept the smoke because I accept the flame. Out of the Night! out of the Night, O Friends: O all my dead, think ye our friendship ends? Harold, Kenneth, Dick, many hearts that were true, While I breathe breath, I am breathing you. Out of the Night! out of the Night, O Power: Many a fight to be won, many an awful hour; Many an hour to wish death ere I go to death, Many an hour to bless breath ere I cease from breath. Out of the Night! out of the Night, O Soul: Give thanks to the Night: Night and Day are the Whole. I count mere life-breath nothing now I know Life's worth Lies all in spending! that known, love Life and Earth.
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