The Book of the Rose

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

THE NATIVE


 

Rocks, I am one with you;
Sea, I am yours.
Your rages come and go,
Your strength endures.

Passion may burn and fade;

5

Pain surge and cease.
My still soul rests unchanged
Through storm and peace.

Fir-tree, beaten by wind,
Sombre, austere,

10

Your sap is in my veins,
O kinsman dear.

Your fibres rude and true
My sinews feed—
Sprung of the same bleak earth,

15

The same rough seed.

The tempest harries us.
It raves and dies;
And wild limbs rest again
Under wide skies.

20

Grass, that the salt hath scourged,
Dauntless and grey,
Though the harsh season chide
Your scant array,

Year by year you return
25

To conquer fate.
The clean life nourishing you
Makes me, too, great.

O rocks, O fir-tree brave,
O grass and sea!

30
Your strength is mine, and you
Endure with me.