Poetry of Kansas

In The Depths

I lie in dim recesses,
Lulled by the deep's caresses.
Over my quiet hands
It sifts its silver sands,
And grasses rank and rare
Are tangled in my hair.
I hear the far-off shiver
Of rushes by the river,
And hear the sobbing sedges
Along its plashy edges.
By day the sunlight twinkles
Down through the windy wrinkles;
By night the moon floats, steady,
Upon the sluggish eddy.
The din of far commotion
Through music of old ocean
I hear__or is it seeming?
Is this dread death, or dreaming?
But if my will grows stronger
To slumber thus no longer,
My hands and tongue are holden
By magic rare and olden.
Only at times my sighs
In airy bubbles rise,
And break the surface of time
In little ripples of rhyme.
___Arthur Graves Canfield
Selected by Arthur Richmond Marsh
(Lawrence: Journal Publishing Co. 1888)
Page 21
December 30, 2001 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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