Song-Surf

ape of Life's unfathomed moan, Whelming humanity with fears unmeant. Yet do I love thee, O, above all fear, And loving thee unconquerably trust The runes that from thy ageless surfing start Would read, were they revealed, gust upon gust, That Immortality is might of heart!

THE DAY-MOON

So wan, so unavailing, Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!

Last night, sphered in thy shining, A Circe--mystic destinies divining;

To-day but as a feather Torn from a seraph's wing in sinful weather,

Down-drifting from the portals Of Paradise, unto the land of mortals.

Yet do I feel thee awing My heart with mystery, as thy updrawing

Moves thro' the tides of Ocean And leaves lorn beaches barren of its motion;

Or strands upon near shallows The wreck whose weirded form at night unhallows

The fisher maiden's prayers-- "For him!--that storms may take not unawares!"

So wan, so unavailing, Across the vacant day-blue dimly trailing!

But Ni