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(2)

gravely treasured up and engulphed in the folds of their
cloaks, in their compassionate hearts, what was murmured and
cried, accepted and understood those changes from torture to
calm, from hate to indifference, which came and went and came
again upon the sleepers' faces. It seemed, at least, as if
each reached out and found standing at the foot of his bed the
counterpart of his thoughts, the sharer of his deeds, found in
sleep a completeness denied him by day, and to that cried and to
that confided and laughed the senseless wild laughter which, had
the waking heard it, would have startled them. To each a
sharer, to each thought an answer, and in this knowledge content -
it might be so. It might be that dreaming and sleeping each
put off the cumber and trouble of flesh and left the house and
paced the beach and asked of the wave and the sky: is the sharp-
edged furniture all, and the flower; is the day all; is our
duty to the day?
      The waves breaking seemed like night shaking her head back
and letting despairingly her dark down, and musing and mourning
as if she lamented the doom which drowned the earth and extin-
guished its lights and of all ships and towns left nothing.
The wave sweeps up the beach; the night mourns human sorrow;
the dsea's beauty consoles; so the wind may have answered the
sleepers, the dreamers, pacing the sand and asking, Why wrap us
about in the sea's beauty, why console us with the lamentation
of the breaking waves, if in truth we only spin this clothing

 


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