SEA-SHORE MEMORIES. OUT OF THE CRADLE ENDLESSLY ROCKING. Trst published in 1860; in that and 1867 under title of A Word Out of the Sea." I OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking,' Out of the mocking bird's throat, the musical shuttle,' Out of the Ninth-month midnight, Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander'd alone, bare-headed, barefoot, Down from the shower'd halo, Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive, Out from the patches of briers and blackberries, From the memories of the bird that chanted to me, From your memories, sad brother-from the fitful risings and fallings I heard, From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears, ΙΟ From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist, From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease, From the word stronger and more delicious than any, As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing, A man-yet by these tears a little boy again, Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves, 20 I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter, Taking all hints to use them-but swiftly leaping beyond them, A reminiscence sing. 1 1860 '67 read "Out of the rock'd cradle." 2 After line 2, 1860 adds "Out of the boy's mother's womb, and from the nipples of her breasts." 2 Once, Paumanok, When the snows had melted-when the lilac-scent was in the air,' and the Fifth-month grass was growing, Up this sea-shore, in some briers, Two guests from Alabama-two together, And their nest, and four light-green eggs, spotted with brown, And every day the he-bird, to and fro, near at hand, And every day the she-bird, crouch'd on her nest, silent, with bright eyes, And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never disturb Winds blow South, or winds blow North, Day come white, or night come black, Home, or rivers and mountains from home, Singing all time, minding no time, While we two keep together." Till of a sudden, 4 May-be kill'd, unknown to her mate, One forenoon the she-bird crouch'd not on the nest, Nor return'd that afternoon, nor the next, Nor ever appear'd again. And thenceforward, all summer, in the sound of the sea, And at night, under the full of the moon, in calmer weather, Or flitting from brier to brier by day, I saw, I heard at intervals, the remaining one, the he-bird, Blow! blow! blow! 5 Blow up, sea-winds, along Paumanok's shore! I wait and I wait, till you blow my mate to me. 30 40 50 1 "when the lilac-scent was in the air" added in 1870. 6 Yes, when the stars glisten'd, All night long, on the prong of a moss-scallop'd stake, Sat the lone singer, wonderful, causing tears. He call'd on his mate; He pour'd forth the meanings which I, of all men, know. Yes, my brother, I know; The rest might not-but I have treasur'd every note; ба For once, and more than once, dimly, down to the beach gliding, Silent, avoiding the moonbeams, blending myself with the shadows, Recalling now the obscure shapes, the echoes, the sounds and sights after their sorts, The white arms out in the breakers tirelessly tossing, I, with bare feet, a child, the wind wafting my hair, Listen'd long and long. Listen'd, to keep, to sing-now translating the notes, 70 Close on its wave soothes the wave behind, And again another behind, embracing and lapping, every one close, But my love soothes not me, not me. Low hangs the moon-it rose late; O it is lagging-O I think it is heavy with love, with love. O madly the sea pushes, pushes upon the land, With love-with love. O night! do I not see my love fluttering out there among the breakers? What is that little black thing I see there in the white? Loud! loud! loud! Loud I call to you, my love! 80 High and clear I shoot my voice over the waves ; Low-hanging moon ! What is that dusky spot in your brown yellow? O moon, do not keep her from me any longer. Land! land! O land! 90 Whichever way I turn, O I think you could give me my mate back again, if you only would; For I am almost sure I see her dimly whichever way I look. O rising stars! Perhaps the one I want so much will rise, will rise with some of you. O throat! O trembling throat!1 Sound clearer through the atmosphere! Pierce the woods, the earth; Somewhere listening to catch you, must be the one I want. Shake out, carols! Solitary here-the night's carols! Carols of lonesome love! Death's carols! Carols under that lagging, yellow, waning moon! 100 O, under that moon, where she droops almost down into the sea! O reckless, despairing carols. But soft! sink low; Soft! let me just murmur; And do you wait a moment, you husky-noised sea; For somewhere I believe I heard my mate responding to me, So faint-I must be still, be still to listen; But not altogether still, for then she might not come immediately to me. Hither, my love! Here I am! Here! With this just-sustain' d note I announce myself to you; This gentle call is for you, my love, for you. 1 "O trembling throat!" added in 1867. ΙΙΟ Do not be decoy'd elsewhere! That is the whistle of the wind-it is not my voice; O darkness! O in vain! OI am very sick and sorrowful. 120 O brown halo in the sky, near the moon, drooping upon the sea! O troubled reflection in the sea! O throat! O throbbing heart! O all-and I singing uselessly, uselessly all the night. Yet I murmur, murmur on!1 O murmurs—you yourselves make me continue to sing, I know not why. O past! O life! O songs of joy f The aria sinking; 8 All else continuing the stars shining, 130 The winds blowing-the notes of the bird continuous echoing,' The boy extatic—with his bare feet the waves, with his hair the atmosphere dallying, The love in the heart long pent, now loose, now at last tumul tuously bursting, The aria's meaning, the ears, the Soul, swiftly depositing, 14 1 1860 reads "Murmur! murmur on!" 2 1860 reads "O past! O joy!" 3 1860 reads "Loved-but no more with me." 1860 reads "the notes of the wondrous bird echoing." 5 1860 reads "yet, as ever, incessantly moaning." |