near shore.
261
NEAR SHORE.
THE seas of thought are deep and wide;
Let those who will, O friend of mine,
Sail forth without a chart or guide,
Or plummet-line;
Let those who will, O friend of mine,
Sail forth without a chart or guide,
Or plummet-line;
A blank of waters all around,—
A blank of azure overhead,—
An infinite of nothing found,
Whence faith has fled.
A blank of azure overhead,—
An infinite of nothing found,
Whence faith has fled.
The Name that we with reverence speak,
Echoes across those wastes of thought;
But they who go far off to seek,
They hear it not.
Echoes across those wastes of thought;
But they who go far off to seek,
They hear it not.
The shores give back its sweetest sound
From rivulet cool, and shadowing rock,
And voices that calm hearths surround
With friendly talk.
From rivulet cool, and shadowing rock,
And voices that calm hearths surround
With friendly talk.
