Their sunny journey is in safety ending, But for you no journey has an end. The tears that to your eyes their light are lending Shine in softness to no waiting friend; Beyond the search of any eye they tend. There is no nest for the unresting fever Of your passion, yearning, hungry-veined; There is no rest nor blessedness forever That can clasp you, quivering and pained, Whose eyes burn ever to the Unattained. Like time, and like the river’s fateful flowing, Flowing though the ship has come to rest, Your love is passing through the mist and going, Going infinitely from your breast, Surpassing time on its immortal quest. The ship draws softly to the place of waiting, All flush forward with a joyful aim, And while their hands with happy hands are mating, Lips are laughing out a happy name— You pause, and pass among them like a flame. HOURS Hours when I love you, are like tranquil pools, The liquid jewels of the forest, where The hunted runner dips his hand, and cools His fevered ankles, and the ferny air Comes blowing softly on his heaving breast Hinting the sacred mystery of rest. AT THE AQUARIUM Serene the silver fishes glide, Stern-lipped, and pale, and wonder-eyed! As, through the aged deeps of ocean, They glide with wan and wavy motion. They have no pathway where they go, They flow like water to and fro, They watch with never-winking eyes, They watch with staring, cold surprise, The level people in the air, The people peering, peering there: Who wander also to and fro, And know not why or where they go, Yet have a wonder in their eyes, Sometimes a pale and cold surprise. _Arturo Giovannitti_