Sweeping the margin of eternity;
And as a ripple on the brooding tides
My life, a-dream, shapes its sure destiny.
Like constant showes of torrential rain
The surging, racial currents force the stream
Whose grappling groundswells shake the solid main
Within the gaze of star and sunlight gleam
With prayers and moans their mingled accents rise
From shoal and reef, from harbor, bar and bay;
They rush the surfs to gain some glittering prize
Till in the misty void they melt away,
Like vapors rising from a boiling sea
Into the ocean of eternity.
Published in The Crisis, March 1925