Page:Eight Harvard Poets.djvu/75

 THE ISLAND OF DEATH

HERE is an island in a silent sea That rises — four, rough, rugged walls — on high Above the ocean in calm majesty. A mountain of despair against the sky! About its summit soaring seagulls fly, Or rest them in its lofty cypress trees, And greet the black barge bearing those who die Upon our earth to everlasting ease And pleasant lives that know not man's eternities.

White halls and palaces their dwellings stand; These shadowy souls are all unknown to graves And live, faint phantoms in a fairy land Of dreams and idleness. They hear the waves Sing, and the winds come calling from the caves Of night beyond the ocean, and the cry Of screaming gulls; stare at each ship that braves This wilderness of waters, and glides by In awe-struck silence, ever fearing to draw nigh.

The sun, descending, sows the sea with gold, And showers splendour through the fading skies, 64