Poems By Arjava

COME on the wings of sleep

Grave or with a smile,

Come ere the hushed tide neap

Or tangling thoughts beguile.

On this dark spirit-main

Rise as a full-orbed moon,

Transform the murk of pain

To a fleckless silver boon.

Or through dream-heavy air

On sandals of sound draw nigh

Till echoes waking there

Spring forth in thrilled reply.

Out from a planet's gloom

All aspects call to Thee,—

Life in our stir less tomb,

Light on our darkened sea.