Page:Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse by Paul Selver.djvu/217

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of the ocean, akin to the blood in my veins, Ye ever unfettered are coursing to other domains, Ye ever are lonely in chillness of ebb and of flow, And,—alone or united,—we pine in uncomforted woe. Why may I not breathe and course on as a wave of the sea? On earth I am lonely, and cold is the spirit in me, I likewise am speeding to other, to other domains,— O waves of the ocean, akin to the blood in my veins!

 

Strait the passage, slender, long, Reaching depths where visions throng, Sinking down, you turn your eyes Where an ice-wrought castle lies.

When from here you sink below, Twinkling shafts of colour glow; Someone's peeping eyes are seen— Adamant and moonstone sheen.

There's the snowy opal; here Budding emeralds appear. Hearken—in these castles be Flutes and lutes and dainty glee.

