Page:Songs before sunrise (IA beforesunrisongs00swinrich).pdf/115

 Sang they soft in mine ears, Crowned with jewels of tears, Girt with girdles of fire.

A slow song beaten and broken, As it were from the dust and the dead, As of spirits athirst unsloken, As of things unspeakable spoken, As of tears unendurable shed.

In the manifold sound remote, In the molten murmur of song, There was but a sharp sole note Alive on the night and afloat, The cry of the world's heart's wrong.

As the sea in the strait sea-caves, The sound came straitened and strange; A noise of the rending of graves, A tidal thunder of waves, The music of death and of change.

"We have waited so long," they say, "For a sound of the God, for a breath, For a ripple of the refluence of day, For the fresh bright wind of the fray, For the light of the sunrise of death.