Poetry Archives

[Written for a picture]


The Youth speaks:—
 “Why do you seek the sun
 In your bubble-crown ascending?
 Your chariot will melt to mist.
 Your crown will have an ending.”

The Goddess replies:—
 “Nay, sun is but a bubble,
 Earth is a whiff of foam—
 To my caves on the coast of Thule
 Each night I call them home.
 Thence Faiths blow forth to angels
 And loves blow forth to men—
 They break and turn to nothing
 And I make them whole again.
 On the crested waves of chaos
 I ride them back reborn:
 New stars I bring at evening
 For those that burst at morn:
 My soul is the wind of Thule
 And evening is the sign—
 The sun is but a bubble,
 A fragile child of mine.”