Rejection




'We will lay this thing here'
Thus spake the voice of the sea,
Murmuring wearily—
In the rock's ear—

Then the green laver rose,
Shook out her folds & cried,
Before the rising tide
'Let me repose—

Stir not my rest O sea,
With dead things in these silent deeps,
Surely wave tossed he sleeps
As heavily'—

The weedhung chambers then
Made answer—'O thou sea,
The beasts that feed in me
What need they men'—

Rock limpets cowering,
Murmured gloom shaded—'There is meat
Enough for all to eat
Bear hence this thing—

In thy strong arms O sea,
Out, even to the quicksands' brink,
It shall be that he sink—
There, utterly.'

'We will lay this thing here'
Thus spake the voice of the sea,
Ever persistently
In the rock's ear.