BOWED as an elm under the weight of its beauty, <br />So earth is bowed, under her weight of splendor, <br />Molten sea, richness of leaves and the burnished <br />Bronze of sea-grasses. <br />Clefts in the cliff shelter the purple sand-peas <br />And chicory flowers bluer than the ocean <br />Flinging its foam high, white fire in sunshine, <br />Jewels of water. <br />Joyous thunder of blown waves on the ledges, <br />Make me forget war and the dark war-sorrow— <br />Against the sky a sentry paces the sea-cliff <br />Slim in his khaki.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nahant/
