Читать книгу Song-Surf - Rice Cale Young - Страница 5

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 Night shall come atoning

Thy phantom life thro' day, and high enthroning

Thee in her chambers arrased

With star-hieroglyphs, leave thee unharassed

To glide with silvery passion,

Till in earth's shadow swept thy glowings ashen.