SOMNAMBULISM

Night is above me,

And Night is above the night.

The sea is beside me soughing, or is still.

The earth as a somnambulist moves on

In a strange sleep...

A sea-bird cries.

And the cry wakes in me

Dim, dead sea-folk, my sires —

Who more than myself are me.

Who sat on their beach long nights ago and saw

The sea in its silence;

And cursed it or implored:

Or with the Cross defied;

Then on the morrow in their boats went down.

Night is above me...

And Night is above the night.

Rocks are about me, and, beyond, the sand...

And the low reluctant tide,

That rushes back to ebb a last farewell

To the flotsam borne so long upon its breast.

Rocks.... But the tide is out,

And the slime lies naked, like a thing ashamed

That has no hiding-place.

And the sea-bird hushes —

The bird and all far cries within my blood —

And earth as a somnambulist moves on.