Reverie: The Orchard On The Slope

Thin ridges of land unploughed
Along the tree-rows
Covered with long cream grasses
Wind-torn.
Brown sand between them,
Blue boughs above.

.....

Row and row of waves ever
In the breaking;
Ever in arching and convulsed
Imminence;
Roll of muddy sea between;
Low clouds down-pressing
And pallid and streaming rain.

1 The quiet snow
2 Will splotch
3 Each in the row of cedars
4 With a fine
5 And patient hand;
6 Numb the harshness,
7 Tangle of that swamp.
8 It does not say, The sun
9 Does these things another way.

10 Even on hats of walkers,
11 The air of noise
12 And street-car ledges
13 It does not know
14 There should be hurry.

1 I shall not wonder more, then,
2 But I shall know.

3 Leaves change, and birds, flowers,
4 And after years are still the same.

5 The sea's breast heaves in sighs to the moon,
6 But they are moon and sea forever.

7 As in other times the trees stand tense and lonely,
8 And spread a hollow moan of other times.

9 You will be you yourself,
10 I'll find you more, not else,
11 For vintage of the woeful years.

12 The sea breathes, or broods, or loudens,
13 Is bright or is mist and the end of the world;
14 And the sea is constant to change.

15 I shall not wonder more, then,
16 But I shall know.