Poems By Arjava

SURGING softly on the pebbles of the brim

To that ocean-swaying under .the quiet moon,

Wave-syllables quicken enchantments dim

Through this long hour of midnight's nether-noon.

Far forgotten now the heaviness of day,"

The unreal shadows and all things that die ;

Immortal prescience on the pearl-white way

Where the moon's magic drips down from the sky.

Vision fails and hearing gropes to seize no more

Foam silver-shining, dream-notes of the wave :

The hushed soul mirrored, echoed, gained the shore

Of Light self-offered, of taintless Love that gave.