THE
PATH TO SANKOTY
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IT
winds along the headlands
Above the open sea—
The lonely moorland footpath
That leads to Sankoty.
The crooning sea spreads sailless
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5 |
And
gray to the world’s rim,
Where hang the reeking fog-banks
Primordial and dim.
There fret the ceaseless currents,
And the eternal tide
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10 |
Chafes
over hidden shallows
Where the white horses ride.
The wistful fragrant moorlands
Whose smile bids panic cease,
Lie treeless and cloud-shadowed
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| In grave
and lonely peace.
Across their flowering bosom,
From the far end of day
Blow clean the great soft moor-winds
All sweet with rose and bay.
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A world as large and simple
As first emerged for man,
Cleared for the human drama,
Before the play began.
O well the soul must treasure
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The
calm that sets it free—
The vast and tender skyline,
The sea-turn’s wizardry,
Solace of swaying grasses,
The friendship of sweet-fern—
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30 |
And
in the world’s confusion
Remembering, must yearn
To tread the moorland footpath
That leads to Sankoty,
Hearing the field-larks shrilling
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35 |
| Beside
the sailless sea. |
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