Charles G.D. Roberts

Soothe, soothe
The day-fall, soothe,
Till 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.

From In Divers Tones.

...more poems
...profile of Charles G.D. Roberts

Added 22 November 2008.
Updated 22 November 2008.