CATHEDRALS BY THE SEA

For æons had the self-responsive tide

Risen to ebb, and tempests blown to clear,

And the belated moon refilled her sphere

To wane anew — for, æons since, she died —

When to the deeps that called her earth replied

( Lest year should cancel unavailing year )

And took from her dead heart the stones to rear

A cross-shaped temple to the Crucified.

Then the wild winds through organ-pipes descended

To utter what they meant eternally,

And not in vain the moon devoutly mended

Her wasted taper, lighting Calvary,

While with a psalmody of angels blended

The sullen diapason of the sea.