THE PRIEST'S LAKE

By James Henry Cousins

Beneath the bridge, with noisy rout,

The Atlantic fills the quiet lake...

A pause... a turn... then with a shout

Seaward the brimming waters break.

“Open thy gates,” the Spirit saith,

“O Soul! My wave thy shore shall sweep,

Then back across the pause of death

Draw thee with shoutings to the deep!”