Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
By Genesseret
By Frank S. Gordon
 
From “Gold in the Desert”

AND who is this that walks
By the sea of Genesseret,
By my heart at ebb tide,
By the surging hosts of many people?
 
It is He who stills,        5
Full-glorious in pure serenity,
The rage, the roar of lions,
The sea uplifted cloud-ward.
 
It is He who is
Music unto me, and sweet        10
As radiance planet-wafted
On the eve at eventide.
 
A chord I thought it was I heard;
But it was His words,
Fresh-fallen, unperturbéd by        15
The din of centuries.
 
His words are notes unspent,
That hang upon the waters
When twilight-mystery walks,
Empurpled there.        20
 
A harmony that moves upon
The rage of waves—
A song unending, unbegun,
Bewitching-borne.
 
And I forgot that it was hunger-time—        25
The fawn and the timid doe,
They passed near me
Grazing, unafraid.
 
And they spoke of no more slaying,
Neither war nor servitude,        30
Since He who stills the lions
Had passed by.
 
 
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