Page:Reuben and other poems.pdf/61

 “Field upon field yon sky o’erstoops Ere to the sea it come.” —Like a struck child, she quails, she droops, She cowers, and is dumb.

“Nay, could these eyes, thy windows, yield The view thy clamour craves: Yon same sky, deepening o’er a field, A widening field, of waves:

“Till, thro’ the mystic lip-to-lip Of furthest sky and sea The elusive limit soft should slip Into Infinity:

“Say, O my soul! would’st lie content Before that vision vast? Thy restless longing wholly spent, Thy passion still’d, at last?

“No! Thine inevitable wail Too duly I divine. Would that I were a ship, to sail Past yon horizon-line!