is worthy of a place near Timrod's fine ode on the same subject. "Sapelo" is undoubtedly his greatest and most finished poem, and is a priceless contribution to the national anthology. It is a loving and detailed description of nature on the coast of Georgia, a series of exquisitely soft and lovely marines. In the midst of life's toil and care, the poet gives himself up awhile to dream of the still peace and beauty of this enchanted isle so dear to his memory. "Sapelo" barely misses being a masterpiece of poetic art." CRUCIFER All selections used are from 'Poems,' 1904. Copyright, The State Company, Columbia, South Carolina, and used here by permission. Behold, I stood in spirit near to Heaven's gate, A little space apart, that I might see Who coming thither do find entrance straight, And One stood in the narrow gateway, clothed in white "That naught of sin or wrong, or any evil thing, No need to tarry long, for all the ways were lined And so they came up ever, one by one, and stood And offered there some offering of good; But none did enter in. Long while I stayed, Waiting in vain for one whose gift should meet Acceptance from the Seraph. Many laid Their burdens at his feet; Differing in kind and in proportion, all, And some were weary loads enough to bear; But still the strong barred gates closed up the wall, And none found entrance there. Amid the press I noted one who brought After a while one with a sheaf, like wheat, Came up; but this, when he had quick untied, A little wind did snatch up from his feet And one who trusted much unto his dress Then at the last there came one through the throng- Some mocked her for her burden: "Go to, now, A rare gift thine to lay before the King.' And others yet called after: "Shame that thou Shouldst touch that holy thing!" But, even while they mocked her, lo, the gate Before us to soft music opened wide; The Angel sheathed his sword as she came straight, Naught fearing, to his side. A hundred hands were stretched at once, it seemed, To draw her in; her robe turned strangely white; And round her happy head there sudden gleamed A crown of life and light. She quickly passed away-and I awoke; "'Tis good that thou art here, since it were well For men to know how few and far between Are they who pass the gate. Go now and tell The things that thou hast seen." And so He faded, as the thin, white mist SAPELO* Far from thy shores, enchanted isle, To wander on thy shining strand, And lose awhile life's troubled flow; Blest Sapelo. *Sapelo Island is on the ocean front of McIntosh County, Georgia. The sun is setting in the west; The last light fades on land and sea; The silence woos all things to restAnd wooeth me. So here I lie, with half-closed eye, And, ever, sweet thoughts without words, In dreams I see the live-oak groves; I hear the surf beat on the sands, And murmurous voices from the sea; The wanton waves toss their white hands, And beckon me. Once more adrift 'neath sunny skies, Where sunny seas have in their keep The lotus-lands, I see arise. From out the deep Thy purple woods, uplift in air We win into that silent sea; Our keel glides noiseless to the shore; Sweet eyes and true hearts welcome me To rest once more. The peaceful ocean hints not here And well, as words are set to song, The waves are murmuring on the beach, The happy sun comes up once more I see the great old trees and tall, The long moss waves in every breeze, With flower and fruit at once arrayed, The orange groves are passing fair, As though all seasons loved such shade, And lingered there. A mocking-bird on quivering wings Floats up and down the woodland ways, And, glad with me, he soars and sings Our song of praise. |