Lo! here sit we mid the sun-down seas And the white sierras. The swift, sweet breeze Is about us here; and a sky so fair Is bending above in its azaline hue, That you gaze and you gaze in delight, and you See God and the portals of heaven there. Yea, here sit we where the white ships ride In the morn, made glad and forgetful of night, The white and the brown men side by side In search of the truth, and betrothed to the right; For these are the idols, and only these, Of men that abide by the sun-down seas. The brown brave hand of the har vester, The delicate hand of the prince untried, The rough hard hand of the carpenter, They are all upheld with an equal pride; And the prize it is his to be crown'd or blest, Prince or peon, who bears him best. Yea, here sit we by the golden gate, Not demanding much, but inviting you all, Nor publishing loud, but daring to wait, And great in much that the days deem small; And the gate it is God's, to Cathay, Japan, -- And who shall shut it in the face of man? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DON JUAN'S SONG by ISAAC ROSENBERG ON A VOLUME OF SCHOLASTIC PHILOSOPHY by GEORGE SANTAYANA ON THE DEATH OF MR. CRASHAW by ABRAHAM COWLEY DAYS TOO SHORT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES STAR-TALK by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES |