The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-07-24
POETRY.


They stood upon the mountain brow,
The bearded trappers, halting stood
Irresolute, in nettled ire:
A rroup from out the cooling wood
Taey Qazed right eagerly below.
The flushed sun settled TO the West
Like some far hemisphere OF IRE;
The sands flashed back like fields Of snow,
And yet again they gazed. And now,
Far off and faint, they saw, or guessed
They saw, beyond the sands, a line
A dim and distant lifting beach
That daring men might dare and reach;
Dim shapes Of tOppled peaks with pine,
And watered foothills dark ike wine
Their leader turned and shook ms nead-
.'And shall we turn aside" be said,
saOr dare this hell2'' The men stood still,
As leaning on his sterner will;
And then he stopped and turned again,
And held his broad hand to his brow
The far, white levels of the plains
Flashed hack like billows. Even now
He saw rise up remote, mid sea,
Mid space mid wastes, mid nothingness-
A ship becalmed as in distress.
The dim sign passed as suddenly,
And then his eager eyes grew dazed-
He brought his two hands TO his face.
Again he raised his head, and gazed
With flashing eyes and visage herce
Far out, and resolute TO pierce
The far, far receding reach
OF space and touch its farther beach
He saw but space, unbounded space;
Eternal space and nothingness.
They rested on the deserts rim
of sand They saw the sun go down
Like some round, sinking isle afiame.
Behind them wheeled white peaks Of snow
As they proceeded. Gray and dim,
And ghostly shapes, bat-winged and brown,
And awful objects went and came
Before them now. They pierced at last
The deserts middle depths, and 10,
There Ioomed from out the desert vast
A lonely ship, well built and trim,
And perfect all in hull and mast.
No storm had stained il any whit,
No seasons set their teeth in il.
The rains the elements, and all
The moving things that bring decay
By fair green lands or fairer seas,
Had touched not here for centuries.
Lo. date has lost all reckoning
In this lost land, and no new thing,
Or old, can anywise befall,
For time goes by the other way.
The ages have not any course
Across this untracked waste. The sky
Wears here one blue, unchanging hue,
The heavens one unbending mood.
The far, still stars, they filter through
The heavens, falling bright and bold
Against the sands as beams Of gold
The wide, white moon forgets her force;
The very sun rides round and high,
As if to shun this solitude.
What dreams Of gold or conquest drew
The oak-built soaking to these seas,
Ere Earth, old Earth unsatished,
Rose up and shook man in disgust,
And snOte his cities down, and dried
These measured, town-set seas to dust?
Who trad these decks? What Captain knew
The straits that led to lands like these?
Blew south-sea breeze or north sea-breeze?
What spiccG winds whistled through this sal
What banners streaiued above these seas?
And what strange seaman answered back
II other sea-king's beck and hail,
'T.il. / across his foamy track?
s;.,u,',t Jason here the golden fleece?
Cam Trojan ship or ships Of Greece?
Ca,ns secks dark MA aed from suitry Ind,
Il s,e.l here by splc svpssing wind;
Ike a grand, 'i,'n- when
- moves t1 a en-
Cas- ~. - ships solomon
In quest and Cathay?
Sit dowl as,.i : mn of seas Withdrawn,
And every sea-b. .ath drawn away.
Sit down, s. down What is the good
That we go On still 1shioning
Great iron ships walls of wood;
High mast of oak, or anything?
10! ali things moving must go by,
The sea lies dead. Behold, this land.
sits desolate in dust beside
His snow-white, seamless shroud Of sand;
The very clouds have wept and died,
\ nj only God is in the sky.
JOAQUIN MILLER.