ON MIYAJIMA MOUNTAIN

Out on the sea the sampans ride

And the mountains brim with mist and sun.

O we are in Japan again

And the spell is about us spun!

The spell of the old enchanting East,

Of Buddha and many a blissful priest,

The spell that has never, never ceased

To haunt us!

Glad we behold the temple-tops

And the lanterns in religious row

Standing, like acolytes of stone,

Where the pine and camphor grow.

And o'er them the old pagoda prays

Blessing upon their dreaming days,

And upon the eightfold sacred ways

From Sorrow!

Ah, and the torii too is there

Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine

Daily, with tidal mystery

And majesty divine.

He enters now, as the nuptial sea

Of love first entered our hearts, to be

Lord of their tides eternally,

And Master!