XXI
We come from the sea!
Soft, thin threads of cloud are we:
Gather, gather.
Now is our airy dance begun,
See how we circle and pass the sun,
Come, gather.
Down below on the ground we spy
Things thrown up when the tide was high,
Skeleton fishes lying there,
Wash'd, and burnt, and eaten bare.
Shap'd like us are the fishes' bones,—
White on ocean's pebbly stones,—
But dry, they are dry.
Are you thirsty, you on the sunny sands?
Turn not again to the bitter sea;
Take of the drops that fall from our hands.
White as the afternoon moon were we,
We are become a heavy black
Gather'd up from the scatter'd rack.
What, do you tremble, and shake, and shrink!
Ask'd you not now for water to drink?
Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!
Soft, thin threads of cloud are we:
Gather, gather.
Now is our airy dance begun,
See how we circle and pass the sun,
Come, gather.
Down below on the ground we spy
Things thrown up when the tide was high,
Skeleton fishes lying there,
Wash'd, and burnt, and eaten bare.
Shap'd like us are the fishes' bones,—
White on ocean's pebbly stones,—
But dry, they are dry.
Are you thirsty, you on the sunny sands?
Turn not again to the bitter sea;
Take of the drops that fall from our hands.
White as the afternoon moon were we,
We are become a heavy black
Gather'd up from the scatter'd rack.
What, do you tremble, and shake, and shrink!
Ask'd you not now for water to drink?
Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!