Клинтон Сколлард (Clinton Scollard)

The Mist and the Sea

  The mist crept in from the sea
    Out of the void and the vast;
  And it bore the silver rain
  A shimmering guest in its train,
  And many a murmuring strain
    Of the ships that sailed in the past;
  Soft as sleep's footfalls be
  The mist crept in from the sea.

  The mist crept in from the sea
    And folded the length of the shore
  In the clasp of its mothering arms
  As though it would shield from harms;
  And lulled were the loud alarms,
    And lost was the rage and roar
  Of the surge, so soothingly
  The mist crept in from the sea.

  The mist crept in from the sea,
    White, impalpable, strange;
  Pull of the wafture of wings,
  Of eerie and eldritch things,
  Of visions and vanishings
    Ever in shift and change;
  Silently, hauntingly,
  The mist crept in from the sea.

  The mist crept in from the sea,
    And bode for a space, and then
  It heard the imperious call
  Of the deep, transcending all,
  And it knew itself as the thrall
    Of the world-old master of men,
  So, still as the dreams that flee,
  The mist crept back to the sea.

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