A Sea-Spell
Wave and willows repeat their sounds, as green grasses laughed with streams of silver on lips while sun sets her eyes; indeed this night abounds, shadowed crowns upon pale tides with no slow drips.
The sweet drifting waits with each turn, for swathed wreaths slide over soft greens of light, and song leaves behind tender paths to yearn, for all the airborne winds returning with delight.
Even whirlwinds shall trace those thoughts unshorn, caught in whispers lost in the cradle of air; while the waves rock had ended, sweetly worn, thus all worlds of night shall pursue one prayer;
Take us sense, in such beauty’s arriving, over all the wide far sky swimming, drifting — where the blooms weave quiet—a gentle thriving— harbored, live on high and shining.
- Dante Gabriel Rossetti