The Sea By The Wood

I DWELL in the sea that is wild and deep,

  But afar in a shadow still,

I can see the trees that gather and sleep

  In the wood upon the hill.

The deeps are green as an emerald's face,

  The caves are crystal calm,

But I wish the sea were a little trace

  Of moisture in God's palm.

The waves are weary of hiding pearls,

  Are aweary of smothering gold,

They would all be air that sweeps and swirls

  In the branches manifold.

They are weary of laving the seaman's eyes

  With their passion prayer unsaid,

They are weary of sobs and the sudden sighs

  And movements of the dead.

All the sea is haunted with human lips

  Ashen and sere and gray,

You can hear the sails of the sunken ships

  Stir and shiver and sway

In the weary solitude;

  If mine were the will of God, the main

Should melt away in the rustling wood

  Like a mist that follows the rain.

But I dwell in the sea that is wild and deep

  And afar in the shadow still,

I can see the trees that gather and sleep

  In the wood upon the hill.