SUNSET
ON THE SEA OF GALILEE.
ALONG the shores of far-famed Galilee,
The day, in dying, folds the dun rocks in
A softened haze. Beyond, the barren plains
Uplift unpeopled deserts from the sea,
In patient waiting for unbidden rains.
E'en snow-crowned Hermon fades into the dim,
Soft distance. Here, some ruined cities lie
Upon the pebbled shores, their broken walls
Lapped by the sacred waves; their quiet streets
Unguarded, save by lonely, dark-plumed palms.
Now with the falling night deep silence falls
And broods o'er Gennesaret. Outlines meet
And melt together, gaining greater charms
Through faintness; Galilee grows dark as wine
Below the hills that frame an opal sky.
Through settling dusk one lustrous star flames in out,
And arrow-beams of light along the line
Of Galilee. Another burns on high,
And soon the darkling, rarely tinted sky,
Star-gemmed, bends o'er the solitary sea,
Which shivers back the light from shifting waves,
In broken gleams, and star-beams sliding out.
O sacred sea! That by divine command
Upbore the blessed Jesus on thy breast;
Thou, whose bright shores the Master's feet have pressed
So many centuries agone, give back
Some token of the years that are no more;
Some sign of blessing dropped by that dear hand,
Which, lifted, turned the tempests from their track;
Some whisper of that mystery divine
Yon desolate hills did witness on this shore;
Some certain comfort for all future time,
Some glory for all nations to adore.
Most rash! The nearness of antiquity
Rebukes the wish to know what must not be;
And only warm winds stir the sleeping sea
That holds the key to much of mystery.
Mary N. Hawley.