Peace

These are thy works, O father, these thy crown; Whether on high the air be pure, they shine Along the yellowing sunset, and all night Among the unnumbered stars of God they shine; p. 61Or whether fogs arise and far and wide The low sea-level drown—each finds a tongue And all night long the tolling bell resounds: So shine, so toll, till night be overpast, Till the stars vanish, till the sun return, And in the haven rides the fleet secure.

p. 61

In the first hour, the seaman in his skiff Moves through the unmoving bay, to where the town Its earliest smoke into the air upbreathes And the rough hazels climb along the beach. To the tugg’d oar the distant echo speaks. The ship lies resting, where by reef and roost Thou and thy lights have led her like a child.

This hast thou done, and I—can I be base? I must arise, O father, and to port Some lost, complaining seaman pilot home.

p. 62XXIX—IN THE STATES

p. 62

With half a heart I wander here As from an age gone by A brother—yet though young in years. An elder brother, I.

With

You speak another tongue than mine, Though both were English born. I towards the night of time decline, You mount into the morn.

Youth shall grow great and strong and free, But age must still decay: To-morrow for the States—for me, England and Yesterday.

San Francisco.

p. 63XXX—A PORTRAIT

p. 63

I am a kind of farthing dip, Unfriendly to the nose and eyes; A blue-behinded ape, I skip Upon the trees of Paradise.

am

At mankind’s feast, I take my place In solemn, sanctimonious state, And have the air of saying grace While I defile the dinner plate.

I am “the smiler with the knife,”  The battener upon garbage, I— p. 64Dear Heaven, with such a rancid life, Were it not better far to die?

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