Spring in Monterey

By George Sterling

A hundred fisher boats are out on the bay;
The breakers flash, and the lazy sea-gulls sway,
A-perch on the tethered raft and the dipping prow;
And a cloud is white on the farthesr mountain's brow.

Under our ancient oaks tile turf is green,
And hoarding poppies hold their priceless sheen;
Up in the pasture-lands their golden lines
Pause at the sullen emerald of the pines.

Halcyon days are now, and a spell on ocean and earth;
Tranquil spaces and deeds and a share in the cosmic mirth.
And oh I to feel, in the shadowed days to be,
The light from the sun and the living wind from the sea!

And oh I to feel the joy in the blackbird's breast,
A-tinkle over the rushes that hide the nest!
O bridals free! O lonely mating of birds!
O gentle music given in place of words !

Listen awhile, ere the noontide hush the strain,
Or the lark on her eggs lie meek to the vestal rain.
Cast your care on the way that the sea-mist went,
And drew the Spring to the heart in a sigh of content.

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