The　sea；　my　mother；　with　billowy　swell；
  Is　telling　her　tale　to　the　wave…washed　shell。
  The　sea；　my　mother；　is　singing　to　me；
  With　the　starry　gleam　in　her　wave；
  A　dirge　of　the　dead；　of　the　sad；　sad　sea；
  A　requiem　song　of　the　brave；
  Tenderly；　sadly；　the　surges　tell
  Their　tale　of　death　to　the　wave…washed　shell。
  The　sea；　my　mother；　confides　to　me；
  As　she　turns　to　the　soft；　round　moon；
  The　secrets　that　lie　where　the　spirits　be；
  That　hide　from　the　garish　noon：
  The　sea；　my　mother；　who　loves　me　well；
  Is　telling　their　woe　to　the　wave…washed　shell。
  O　mother　o'　mine；　with　the　foam…flecked　hair；
  O　mother；　I　love　and　know
  The　heart　that　is　sad　and　the　soul　that　is　bare
  To　your　daughter　of　ebb　and　flow；
  And　I　hold　your　whispers　of　Heaven　and　Hell
  In　the　loving　heart　of　a　wave…washed　shell。
  The　Silent　Tide
  I　heard　Old　Ocean　raise　her　voice　and　cry；
  In　that　still　hour　between　the　night　and　day；
  I　saw　the　answering　tides；　green　robed　and　gray；
  Turn　to　her　with　a　low　contented　sigh；
  Marching　with　silent　feet　they　passed　me　by；
  For　the　white　moon　had　taught　them　to　obey；
  And　scarce　a　wavelet　broke　in　fretful　spray；
  As　they　went　forth　to　kiss　the　stooping　sky。
  So；　to　my　heart；　when　the　last　sunray　sleeps；
  And　the　wan　night；　impatient　for　the　moon；
  Throws　her　gray　mantle　over　land　and　sea；
  There　comes　a　call　from　out　Life's　nether　deeps；
  And　tides；　like　some　old　ocean　in　a　swoon；
  Flow　out；　in　soundless　majesty；　to　thee。
  The　Watch　on　Deck
  Becalmed　upon　the　equatorial　seas；
  A　ship　of　gold　lay　on　a　sea　of　fire；
  Each　sail　and　rope　and　spar；　as　in　desire；
  Mutely　besought　the　kisses　of　a　breeze；
  Low　laughter　told　the　mariners　at　ease；
  Sweet　sea…songs　hymned　the　red　sun's　fun'ral　pyre：
  Yet　One；　with　eyes　that　never　seemed　to　tire；
  Watched　for　the　storm；　nursed　on　the　thunder's　knees。
  Thou　watcher　of　the　spirit's　inner　keep；
  Scanning　Death's　lone；　illimitable　deep；
  Spread　outward　to　the　far　immortal　shore！
  While　the　vault　sleeps；　from　the　upheaving　deck；
  Thou　see'st　the　adamantine　reefs　that　wreck；
  And　Life's　low　shoals；　where　lusting　billows　roar。
  Autumn
  When；　with　low　moanings　on　the　distant　shore；
  Like　vain　regrets；　the　ocean…tide　is　rolled：
  When；　thro'　bare　boughs；　the　tale　of　death　is　told
  By　breezes　sighing；　〃Summer　days　are　o'er〃；
  When　all　the　days　we　loved　　the　days　of　yore
  Lie　in　their　vaults；　dead　Kings　who　ruled　of　old
  Unrobed　and　sceptreless；　uncrowned　with　gold；
  Conquered；　and　to　be　crowned；　ah！　never　more。
  If　o'er　the　bare　fields；　cold　and　whitening
  With　the　first　snow…flakes；　I　should　see　thy　form；
  And　meet　and　kiss　thee；　that　were　enough　of　Spring；
  Enough　of　sunshine；　could　I　feel　the　warm
  Glad　beating　of　thy　heart　'neath　Winter's　wing；
  Tho'　Earth　were　full　of　whirlwind　and　of　storm。
  Mary　Gilmore。
  A　Little　Ghost
  The　moonlight　flutters　from　the　sky
  To　meet　her　at　the　door；
  A　little　ghost；　whose　steps　have　passed
  Across　the　creaking　floor。
  And　rustling　vines　that　lightly　tap
  Against　the　window…pane；
  Throw　shadows　on　the　white…washed　walls
  To　blot　them　out　again。
  The　moonlight　leads　her　as　she　goes
  Across　a　narrow　plain；
  By　all　the　old；　familiar　ways
  That　know　her　steps　again。
  And　through　the　scrub　it　leads　her　on
  And　brings　her　to　the　creek；
  But　by　the　broken　dam　she　stops
  And　seems　as　she　would　speak。
  She　moves　her　lips；　but　not　a　sound
  Ripples　the　silent　air；
  She　wrings　her　little　hands；　ah；　me！
  The　sadness　of　despair！
  While　overhead　the　black…duck's　wing
  Cuts　like　a　flash　upon
  The　startled　air；　that　scarcely　shrinks
  Ere　he　afar　is　gone。
  And　curlews　wake；　and　wailing　cry
  Cur…lew！　cur…lew！　cur…lew！
  Till　all　the　Bush；　with　nameless　dread
  Is　pulsing　through　and　through。
  The　moonlight　leads　her　back　again
  And　leaves　her　at　the　door；
  A　little　ghost　whose　steps　have　passed
  Across　the　creaking　floor。
  Good…Night
  Good…night！　。　。　。　my　darling　sleeps　so　sound
  She　cannot　hear　me　where　she　lies；
  White　lilies　watch　the　closed　eyes；
  Red　roses　guard　the　folded　hands。
  Good…night！　　O　woman　who　once　lay
  Upon　my　breast；　so　still；　so　sweet
  That　all　my　pulses；　throbbing；　beat
  And　flamed　　I　cannot　touch　you　now。
  Good…night；　my　own！　　God　knows　we　loved
  So　well；　that　all　things　else　seemed　slight
  We　part　forever　in　the　night；
  We　two　poor　souls　who　loved　so　well。
  Bernard　O'Dowd。
  Love's　Substitute
  This　love；　that　dares　not　warm　before　its　flame
  Our　yearning　hands；　or　from　its　tempting　tree
  Yield　fruit　we　may　consume；　or　let　us　claim
  In　Hymen's　scroll　of　happy　heraldry
  The　twining　glyphs　of　perfect　you　and　me
  May　kindle　social　fires　whence　curls　no　blame；
  Find　gardens　where　no　fruits　forbidden　be；
  And　mottoes　weave；　unsullied　by　a　shame。
  For；　love；　unmothered　Childhood　wanly　waits
  For　such　as　you　to　cherish　it　to　Youth：
  Raw　social　soils　untilled　need　Love's　own　verve
  That　Peace　a…flower　may　oust　their　weedy　hates：
  And　where　Distress　would　faint　from　wolfish　sleuth
  The　perfect　lovers'　symbol　is　〃We　serve！〃
  Our　Duty
  Yet　what　were　Love　if　man　remains　unfree；
  And　woman's　sunshine　sordid　merchandise：
  If　children's　Hope　is　blasted　ere　they　see
  Its　shoots　of　youth　from　out　the　branchlets　rise：
  If　thought　is　chained；　and　gagged　is　Speech；　and　Lies
  Enthroned　as　Law　befoul　posterity；
  And　haggard　Sin's　ubiquitous　disguise
  Insults　the　face　of　God　where'er　men　be？
  Ay；　what　were　Love；　my　love；　did　we　not　love
  Our　stricken　brothers　so；　as　to　resign
  For　Its　own　sake；　the　foison　of　Its　dower：
  That；　so；　we　two　may　help　them　mount　above
  These　layers　of　charnel　air　in　which　they　pine；
  To　seek　with　us　the　Presence　and　the　Power？
  Edwin　James　Brady。
  The　Wardens　of　the　Seas
  Like　star　points　in　the　ether　to　guide　a　homing　soul
  Towards　God's　Eternal　Haven；　above　the　wash　and　roll；
  Across　and　o'er　the　oceans；　on　all　the　coasts　they　stand
  Tall　seneschals　of　commerce；　High　Wardens　of　the　Strand
  The　white　lights　slowly　turning
  Their　kind　eyes　far　and　wide；
  The　red　and　green　lights　burning
  Along　the　waterside。
  When　Night　with　breath　of　aloes；　magnolia；　spice；　and　balm
  Creeps　down　the　darkened　jungles　and　mantles　reef　and　palm；
  By　velvet　waters　making　soft　music　as　they　surge
  The　shore　lights　of　dark　Asia　will　one　by　one　emerge
  Oh；　Ras　Marshig　by　Aden
  Shows　dull　on　hazy　nights；
  And　Bombay　Channel's　laid　in
  Its　〃In〃　and　〃Outer〃　lights。
  When　Night；　in　rain…wet　garments　comes　sobbing　cold　and　grey
  Across　the　German　Ocean　and　South　from　Stornoway；
  Thro'　snarling　darkness　slowly；　some　fixed　and　some　a…turn；
  The　bright　shore…lights　of　Europe　like　welcome　tapers　burn；
  From　fierce　Fruholmen　streaming
  O'er　Northern　ice　and　snow；
  To　Cape　St。　Vincent　gleaming；
  These　lamps　of　danger　glow。
  The　dark　Etruscan　tending　his　watchfires　by　the　shore；
  On　sacred　altars　burning；　the　world　shall　know　no　more；
  His　temple's　column　standing　against　the　ancient　stars
  Is　gone；　Now　bright　catoptrics　flash　out　electric　bars；
  Slow　swung　his　stately　Argos
  Unto　the　Tiber's　mouth；
  But　now　the　Tuscan　cargoes
  Screw…driven；　stagger　South。
  The　lantern　of　Genoa　guides　home　no　Eastern　fleets
  As　when　the　boy　Columbus　played　in　its　narrow　streets：
  No　more　the　Keltic　‘dolmens'　their　fitful　warnings　throw
  Across　the　lone　Atlantic；　so　long；　so　long　ago
  No　more　the　beaked　prows　dashing
  Shall　dare　a　shoreward　foam；
  No　more　will　great　oars　threshing
  Sweep　Dorian　galleys　home。
  No　more　the　Vikings　roaring　their　sagas　wild　and　weird
  Proclaim　that　Rome　has　fallen；　no　more　a　consul　feared
  Shall　quench　the　Roman　pharos　lest　Northern　pirates　free
  Be　pointed　to　their　plunder　on　coasts　of　Italy
  Nor　shall　unwilling　lovers；
  From　Lethean　pleasures　torn；
  Fare　nor'ward　with　those　rovers；
  To　frozen　lands　forlorn。
  The　bale…fires　and　the　watch…fires；　the　wrecker's　foul　false　lure
  No　more　shall　vex　the　shipmen；　and　on　their　course　secure
  Past　Pharos　in　the　starlight　the　tow'ring　hulls　of　Trade
  Race　in　and　out　from　Suez　in　iron　cavalcade；
  So　rode　one　sunset　olden
  Across　the　dark'ning　sea；
  With　banners　silk　and　golden；
  The　Barge　of　Antony！
  They　loom　along　the　foreshores；　they　gleam　across　the　Straits；
  They　guide　the　feet　of　Commerce　unto　the　harbor　gates。
  In　nights　of　storm　and　thunder；　thro'　fog　and　sleet　and　rain；
  Like　stars　on　angels'　foreheads；　they　give　man　heart　again；
  Oh；　hear　the　high　waves　smashing
  On　Patagonia's　shore！
  Oh；　hear　the　black　waves　thresh