In shade-fleckt grasses ankle-deep -
Old bridge of stone and winding street
Are there : and ever fresh and sweet
The travell'd winds from sea returning stop to greet
With drowsy murmur of leaves its realms of sleep.
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And, bending east, from many a hill,
O'er swarthy knolls and fields,
The sheer Cape angrily plunges till
To the broad sea it yields.
And all before me lies that sea,
Its fulness and its mystery,
The undream'd silence that enfolds
Whatever thoughts its bosom holds,
Whatever depths of feeling hide 'neath its blue wolds.
Its secret yet is unreveal'd to me.
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Class of '91.
