The Caves

Like the tide--knocking at the hollowed cliff     And running into each green cave as if     In the cave's night to keep     Eternal motion grave and deep;--     That, even while each broken wave repeats     Its answered knocking and with bruised hand beats     Again, again, again,     Tossed between ecstasy and pain;     Still in the folded hollow darkness swells,     Sinks, swells, and every green-hung hollow fills,     Till there's no room for sound     Save that old anger rolled around;     So into every hollow cliff of life,     Into this heart's deep cave so loud with strife,     In tunnels I knew not,     In lightless labyrinths of thought,     The unresting tide has run and the dark filled,     Even the vibration of old strife is stilled;     The wave returning bears     Muted those time-breathing airs.     --How shall the million-footed tide still tread     These hollows and in each cold void cave spread?     How shall Love here keep     Eternal motion grave and deep?