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Fish of the Flood

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Fish of the flood, on the bankèd billow
Thou layest thy head in dreams;
Sliding as slides thy shifting pillow,
One with the streams
Of the sea is thy spirit.

Gean-tree, thou spreadest thy foaming flourish
Abroad in the sky so grey;
It not heeding if it thee nourish,
Thou dost obey,
Happy, its moving.


So, God, thy love it not needeth me,
Only thy life, that I blessèd be.

Source: Poetry

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This poem originally appeared in the October 1912 issue of Poetry magazine

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Fish of the Flood

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