For works with similar titles, see Lines.
4591983Poems — LinesAnne Whitney


   Dim Eden of delight,
In whom my heart springs upward like a palm;
Loving your morning strength, your evening calm,
   Your star-inspired Night—
A sweeter breath blows upward from the sea,
Like a fresh hope from God's eternity;—
   Latest and best, are you then coming?

   Nay—shadow is not here;
Save of the rocks upon the gleaming sands,
And that which moves beside me with clasped hands,
   A suffering shadow, drear
With watching, it would seem, the endless swell,
Great, white-faced waves, sent ceaselessly to quell
   The stern and silent shore with thunder.