Page:Songs before sunrise (IA beforesunrisongs00swinrich).pdf/155



but a song oversea for us, Heart of their hearts who are free, Heart of their singer, to be for us More than our singing can be; Ours, in the tempest at error, With no light but the twilight of terror; Send us a song oversea!

Sweet-smelling of pine-leaves and grasses, And blown as a tree through and through With the winds of the keen mountain-passes, And tender as sun-smitten dew; Sharp-tongued as the winter that shakes The wastes of your limitless lakes, Wide-eyed as the sea-line's blue.

O strong-winged soul with prophetic Lips hot with the bloodheats of song, With tremor of heartstrings magnetic, With thoughts as thunders in throng,