Page:Rivers to the Sea (Collection).djvu/140

 In all my singing had prefigured you, Foretold you as a spark foretells a flame. Yet I was free as an untethered cloud In the great space between the sky and sea, And might have blown before the wind of joy Like a bright banner woven by the sun. I did not know the longing in the night— You who have waked me cannot give me sleep. All things in all the world can rest, but I, Even the smooth brief respite of a wave When it gives up its broken crown of foam, Even that little rest I may not have. And yet all quiet loves of friends, all joy In all the piercing beauty of the world I would give up—go blind forevermore, Rather than have God blot from out my soul Remembrance of your voice that said my name.

For us no starlight stilled the April fields, No birds awoke in darkling trees for us,