AMBERGRIS 
63 
V. 
All change, all motion, and all sound, are weakness ! 
Man cannot bear the darkness which is death. 
Even that calm Christ, manifest in meekness, 
Cried on the cross and gave his ghostly breath, 
On the prick of death, 
Voice, for his passion could not bear nor dare 
The interlunar, the abundant air 
Darkened, and silence on the shuddering 
Hill, and the unbeating wing 
Of the legions of His Father, and so died. 
But I, should I be still, 
Poised between fear and will ? 
Should I be silent, I, and be unsatisfied ? 
For solitude shall bend 
Self to all selffulness, and have one friend, 
Self, and behold one God, and be, and look beyond the End. 
 
VI, 
O Solitude !  how many have mistaken 
Thy name for Sorrow’s, or for Death’s or Fear’s ! 
Only thy children lie at night and waken— 
How shouldst thou speak and say that no man hears ? 
O soul of Tears ! 
For never hath fallen as dew thy word, 
Nor is thy shape showed, nor as Wisdom’s heard 
Thy crying about the city 
In the house where is no pity 
But in the desolate halls and lonely vales of sand : 
Not in the laughter loud, 
Nor crying of the crowd, 
But in the farthest sea, the yet untravelled land. 
Where thou has trodden, I have trod ; 
Thy folk have been my folk, and thine abode 
Mine, and thy life my life, and thou, who art thy 
God, my God.