A CHAPEL BY THE SEA

There's a mouldering mountain chapel gazing out across the sea

From beneath the lisping shelter of a eucalyptus tree

That has drawn the ancient silence from the mountain's heart and fills

And subdues a fevered spirit with the quiet of the hills.

For silvery in the morning the chimes go dropping down

Across the vales of purple mist that gird the island town

And golden in the evening the vesper bells again

Call back the weary fishing folk along the leafy lane.

I'd like to be the father priest and call the folk to prayer

Up through the winding dewy ways that climb the morning air,

And send them down at even-song with all the silent sky

Of early starshine teaching them far deeper truth than I.

I'd like to lie at rest there beneath a mossy stone

Above the crooning sea's low distant monotone,

Lulled by the lisping whisper of the eucalyptus tree

That shades my mountain chapel gazing out across the sea.