Echoes

The might that shaped itself through storm and stress

In chaos, here is lulled in breathing sweet;

Under the long brown ridge in gentleness

Its fierce old pulses beat.

Quiet and sad we go at eve; the fire

That woke exultant in an earlier day

Is dead; the memories of old desire

Only in shadows play.

We liken love to this and that; our thought

The echo of a deeper being seems:

We kiss, because God once for beauty sought

Within a world of dreams.