ddens--
Sets life's forest afire!

3

With purple shadows the mist measures the infinite sea
That spreads her wave-raiment in lavender, violet, gray, and green;
While with thin silver rays a lone star seeks to sound the deeps.

The breeze-wings tire of flight;
The mist-threads weave a rose-fringed dusky drapery
To cover the bare breasts of the dunes from the moon's langour-heavy
eyes.

The shadows die in purple silence;
Fades the one star from the sky,
As the dark mist puts out the rose-red moon from its deep.

Pale gleams the lighthouse light;
No warring waves break the peace of sleep tonight
Nor a hungry wind shrieks in pain from the lea.

Under her heavy veil of black
A languid sea sluggishly flows
To some far land of forsaken dreams.

4

"O, OLD! O, NEW!"[1]

Who are you?
Why make me wait
From the hour of dew
Till another sunset?
Why do I look
For your coming?
Listen to the weeping brook
That might bring
To my lonely shore
A word from you.
Ah, nothing! not a leaf's tremor!
O, old! O, longed for new!
Who are you? I ask;
Know not why I seek
From day to dusk
Without waking or sleep,--
No sleep! no waking!
A dreaming, a longing;
Not knowing, yet seeking,
For your coming waiting--
O, spring-born!
O, autumn-clad!
O, soul's new morn!
O, old! O, glad!
So glad, so young!
O, unseen, unknown,
O, fugitive vision!
O, eternal moan
In my heart--

O, tearful Soul of laughter,
Untouched, unhurt,
O, sweet! O, bitter!
My born yet unborn,
Shadow not fallen
O, undawning morn--
O, message unbroken.
Why, how, when?
I wait, wait for you,
O embrace of earth and heaven;
O, Old! O, New!

[Footnote 1: "O, Old! O, New!" is the cry of a "Poati," _e. g._, a
mother's cry to her unborn child. "Poati" has no precise English
synonym.]

5

The far away called her--
A pilgrim on the hope-lit bark of youth,
A woman, a child, a soul
On an argosy for the lands of south.

It called her in her dreams;
Her waking into a deeper dream grew;
The flute of the distant
Played ceaselessly the music of the new.

With words of fire it called her,
Beyond the bourne of her days
To a silent sea of joy
Washed by unendin