Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/101

 The flower as the tree They flutter, a legion of flowers on the wing, through the field of the sea.

Through the furrowless field Where the foam-blossoms blow And the secrets are sealed Of their harvest below They float in the path of the sunbeams, as flakes or as blossoms of snow.

Till the sea's ways darken, And the God, withdrawn, Give ear not or hearken If prayer on him fawn, And the sun's self seem but a shadow, the noon as a ghost of the dawn.