Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/246

230 Resisted the fell tide that onward bore

Its helpless prey with hideous uproar.

Twice had I lost my footing; yet I clave,

As one who struggles more than life to save,—

My every thought of her; but when at last,

Sore bruised and breathless, as one shoreward cast

After rude shipwreck, I dared raise my eyes,

Seeking in that vast Hell my Paradise,—

There, like some virgin image carved in stone,

She stood in her white radiance—alone.

Where were the men that loved her, as they said?

Ah, bitter "where"! They, all, too rashly fled,

Had entered that ignoble human strife,

Paying a shameful price for paltry life.

She read my soul, I think; and then—she smiled.

Nay, friend,—imagine not my speech grown wild!

I tell you true: in that appalling place

She smiled—the calm of Heaven in her face:

Her service had been long my soul's emprise;

Yet a new, wistful wonder lit her eyes,