THE WATERS OF PARADISE.

In Paradise there is a sea Blue as the turkis stone, And many passing wonders be Hid in its depths alone; But seen of all the folk of neighbour land, Whose quiet feet do walk the yellow strand. And since that shore is void of man No sail about it flies, But hundred-hued Leviathan Like a prone rainbow lies, And looketh on the weaving waters wan With stilly emerald eyes. And though no sail move on the deep As calm as any mere, A radiant folk, who may not weep, Without a sail do steer, And very pleasant ways and winding keep Above the solemn clear. Par miracle, I once did go And stood upon the shore; A gemmy archipelago The gemmy waters bore, And all those sprites that are unchained of woe Do dwell there evermore. Like to the summer leaves that make A little whispering, These folk that dwellen in the lake Full fairly say and sing, As waters blown at night, that wake With a sweet murmuring. 1916.