Lake Lyrics and Other Poems

by William Wilfred Campbell




(In June.)


O MAGIC region of blue waters throbbing,
    O blown wave-garden, ’neath the north world’s span;
Wild paradise, girt in by crag-walls, robbing
    All earth of beauty since the world began;
I dream again your voice of beaches sobbing
    And crave a boon more sweet that gift of man;—

Once more in the ripe heart of golden summer,
    To drift upon your blue pearled wimpling breast;
To watch God’s dawn, bud, bloom, a flushed incomer,
    To see him die with flames in thy hushed west; 

To even know the entrance silence dumber,
    Because of heart awe-hushed and lips love-pressed.

To watch the dimmed day deepen into even,
    The flush of sunset melt in pallid gold;
While the pale planets blossom out in heaven; 

    To feel the under silence trance and hold
The night’s great heartbeats; soul-washed, nature-shriven,
    To feel the mantle of silence fold on fold.

To know the horologe of nature timing
    The dawning or the golden heart of noon, 

To hear in spirit magic bells set chiming
    On silver continents of the rising moon;
To read in sky, wave, wood, God’s poet rhyming
    In mystic rhythm nature’s eternal rune.

And so forget the sorrow and the glory, 

    The passion and the pain that men call life;
To let the past go like a long-told story,
    The long-forgotten and the long-dead strife;
But just to drift here while the years grow hoary,
    Dead to earth’s living with all its anguish rife. 

And know no voice save that of beaches chanting,

    No eye save June’s own glorious dome of blue;
And so be dead to all the strife and canting,
    The violence of souls that were untrue;
And only know one love, the mighty panting 
    Of your great heart that throbs your being through.