ACTUS QUARTUS
The sea assumes the lunar light,
And he—their eremite!
In their calm intercourse and kiss
Even hell itself no longer is;
For nothing in their love abides
That passes not beneath their tides,
And whoso bathes in light of theirs,
And water, changes unawares
To be no separate soul, but be
Himself the moon and sea.
Not all the wealth that flowers shed,
And sacred streams, on that calm head;
Not all the earth’s spell-weaving dream
And scent of new-turned earth shall seem
Again indeed his mother’s breast
To breathe like sleep and give him rest ;
He lives or dies in subtler swoon
Between the sea and moon.
So standing, gliding, undeterred
By any her alluring word
That calls from older forest glades,
My soul forgets the gentle maids
That wooed me in the scarlet bowers,
And golden cluster-woof of flowers;
Forgets itself, content to be
Between the moon and sea.