INEFFABLE THINGS

By Cale Young Rice

The little song-sparrow is gone

And the summer is nearly ended,

The rill of his song was a happy rift

In the surging sound of the sea.

The swallow is lingering on,

And the silvery swift sandpiper,

And I — tho I know my saddened heart

Has lost an ineffable thing,

That summer no more can bring.

With the first bay-leaves that flung

Their scent to me by the billows,

I twined some faith, some trust,

As glad as the sparrow's song.

And the terns that darted among

The tides seemed weaving for me

Impalpable wings of peace and hope —

That now have taken flight

Beyond the day and the night.

Ah, Life, you have known my plea

For sun and the tide of fortune,

For winds to waken my sail and bear

Me joyously over the world.

Know too how much of your fog

And storm and rain I will suffer,

If only you do not sweep from me

The dear ineffable things,

To which your fragrance clings.