WHEN the breath of twilight blows to flame the misty skies, <br />All its vaporous sapphire, violet glow and silver gleam, <br />With their magic flood me through the gateway of the eyes; <br /> I am one with the twilight's dream. <br /> <br />When the trees and skies and fields are one in dusky mood, <br />Every heart of man is rapt within the mother's breast: <br />Full of peace and sleep and dreams in the vasty quietude, <br /> I am one with their hearts at rest. <br /> <br />From our immemorial joys of hearth and home and love <br />Stray'd away along the margin of the unknown tide, <br />All its reach of soundless calm can thrill me far above <br /> Word or touch from the lips beside. <br /> <br />Aye, and deep and deep and deeper let me drink and draw <br />From the olden fountain more than light or peace or dream, <br />Such primaeval being as o'erfills the heart with awe, <br /> Growing one with its silent stream.<br /><br />George William Russell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/by-the-margin-of-the-great-deep-2/
