In Divers Tones

by Charles G.D. Roberts

Edited by Tracy Ware




               Soothe, soothe
               The day-fall, soothe,
      The wrinkling winds and seas are smooth,—
               Till yon low band
               Of charméd strand
      Puff seaward dreams from the inner land,—
Till, lapped in mild half-lights, our dream-blown boat
Is felt to float, to fall, to float.

               A sundown rose
               Delays and glows

O’er yon spired peak’s remoter snows.
               Uprolling soon
               A red-ripe moon
      Lolls in the pines in drowsed half swoon;
And thin moon-shades pace out to us, and shift
            Our visions as we drift, and drift.

               From night-wide blooms
               In coppice glooms
      Set outward voyaging spice perfumes.
               The slow-pulsed seas,

               The shadowed trees,—
      The night spell holds us one with these,
Till, Love, we scarce know life from sleep,—we seem
            To smile a little, dream, and dream.