Sweet Silent Sea-Waves Lapping By The Rocks

Sweet silent sea-waves lapping by the rocks That beneath the frowning bastions lie Nature, the tricky one Left the door ajar half-open half-closed And none of them - yet leaving things in the middle: And he And he Pondering Pondering as not be foolish Said to himself There’s danger if I open the door too much I do not know what I will let in: Yet Yet The option beckoned: either close or open to full: So he pondered again This time being quicker, rasher Decided for the line of least resistance For the prudent path Fear, tall impudent fear Stood by him like a dubious angel His counsel was not lost – it moved him And so He closed the door thinking he said And making sure against ‘the unforseen’. Courage had stood by him But Fear won him smiling green Into the face of Courage Another soul was won to Fear Another to Courage lost: Then Courage went away bashfully. Fear sate him invisible by and by to watch. So the drama quick unfolded: And he sank He could not walk on water Because Fear had won him Because Courage had lost him: And so And so He sate on a safe rock And put his feet into the water like a child To feel the cool sweet water rush And press with sweetness round his ankles But Fear, yellow fear won! For even here: The sands started to ‘Twas a slippery bank, a bank of treachery And treacherous the sand sank And fast the sand Sank like down the time-glass. And Fear seizing him He was un resourceful to the full His mind Fear had made blank It was blank – worse Than if Morpheus on touching it Had exceeded his dose of opiate sleep; He saw nothing Except him sink And sink: And all around him crush And all around him go: And yet He felt a pleasure in the ruin A sweetness new not felt before He felt: In sinking. And so sinking He still heard The music of pleasantness Ring in his ears The sea was calm and wave-less So no current churned And linear and tall He went down to the floor The walls of water around him raged The walls of water around him pressed Like flames of wrath Like flames of ruin Nero-like When Nero burned his Rome And staring stood Stringing here and there a note On his large funereal harp And so He touched the floor of the salt sea Deep in and smiling in his ruin At least pain had flown away Fear had granted in recompense A painless sinking: And as he fell His eyes were open yet closed And he Could not recriminate himself As to why He simply could not open the door - it was so easy So imperative: Yet so he did not and he sank. And thus engrossed He thought himself alone If he could think: And could not see A case like his a-sinking to the floor Another coward Fear his victim made De te fabula!