O Love, O Love, These Oceans Vast
He who has felt on his dark bed
The pressure of the tides
Finds sunlight ebbing round his head,
Morning on all sides.
Like all heaven the hound will eat from his hand,
And the wave like a new-born foal;
Manes engulfing a green island,
Lions court his soul.
He who has felt as here I feel
The tireless tongues of the tides
Will lie in ruin in the realm of the real,
Life on all sides.
Structure
12 lines · 3 stanzas