The Soul's Bath

AT even when the roseate deeps
Of daylight dim from heaven’s bars,
The Soul her earthworn garment slips
And naked stands beneath the stars ;
And there unto that river vast,
That mighty tide of night, whose girth
With splendid planets brimming past,
Doth wash the ancient rim of earth ;
She comes and plunges in ; and laves
Her weariness in that vast tide,
That life-renewing deep, whose waves
Are wide as night is wide.
Then from the pure translucent flow
Of that unplumbed, invigorate sea,
Godlike in Truth’s white spirit-glow
She stands unshamed and free.
W. Wilfred Campbell.