To George Sterling (3)

By Lannie Haynes Martin

Sea-worshipper, idolator of stars!
What galaxy of suns enchants thee now?
What cosmic oceans roll eternal surge
To send ethereal zephyrs to thy brow?
Thy deathless song in ceaseless echoes here
Will chant its magic cadence to the skies,
And Beauty's image, conjured by thy words,
From ancient worlds, forever new will rise.
And Life itself will wear a dignity
For that sublime simplicity of thine—
That gentle, pagan grandeur which revived
The soul of man to know itself divine.
The world will bring its laurels and its palms
To crown thy name through all the changing years—
While we who knew and loved thee only bring
Our breaking hearts—our foolish futile tears—
While we in friendship's anguish of regret,
At all the friendly words we left unsaid,
Stretch out our vain-imploring, empty hands—
Hands dumb as dust, more helpless than the dead.

Overland Monthly and Out West Magazine, March 1927, Volume LXXXV, Number 3, pg. 79.