A First Word

"Come," said the Ocean, "I have songs to sing,
And need thine utterance, as Apollo's self
Needed his lyre to perfume the world
With chants of soul and body, both divine."

"Come," said the Ocean, "if thy soul is fit
To bear my mastery, thy words shall flow
Simple and adequate as human tears,
And all thy discord fall in great accords."

"Come," said the Ocean: and I answered: "Lord
Of song and silence, I have heard thy voice,
And loved as may a man the heart divine;
But still my soul is tremulous and mute."

"Come," said the Ocean, "Oh, my tired child.
My lips are delicate with whisper, sad
With endless yesterdays, and marvellous
With myriad legends since the birth of Time."

"Come," said the Ocean, soft; and I, "Beloved,
Alone upon thy breast I heard and knew
And marvelled and was dumb." And then the sea:
"Speak!" And I said, "By what?" and She, "By Love. "