<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415700" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cape Byron</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Upon the orient utmost of the land,<br>Enfranchised of the world, alone, and free,<br>I stood; before me, and on either hand,<br>The interminable solace of the sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A white-winged hour of heaven, a fugitive<br>Of which the angels wist not, hither fled,<br>Whose plumy, rustling whispers bid me live<br>Its length of moments as if grief were dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh memorable hour of beauteous things!<br>The heaving azure melting into light;<br>The chequered sport of fleet o'ershadowings;<br>The nearer emerald curling into white;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The shoreward billows merging each in each,<br>To sunder yet again, fold, and unfold;<br>The shining curve of far-receptive beach;<br>The silvery wave-kiss on the gladdened gold;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grandeur of the lone old promontory;<br>The distant bourne of hills in purple guise,<br>Athrob with soft enchantment; high in glory<br>The peak of Warning bosomed in the skies!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh all too fair to be so seldom seen,<br>This shadowy purple on the mountains sleeping—<br>This sapphire of unutterable sheen—<br>This beauty-harvest ever ripe for reaping!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For what high end is all this daily boon,<br>Unseen of man, in sightless silence spent?<br>Doth lavish Nature vainly importune<br>The unconscious witness of the firmament?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or is it that the influent God, whose breath<br>Informs with glory sea and shore and hill,<br>His infinite lone rejoicing nourisheth<br>Upon the beauteous outcome of His will?<br>Or is it but a patient waiting-while<br>Against a day when many an eye shall bless,<br>From lowly cottage and imperial pile,<br>This wide tranquillity of loveliness;—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Against a day of many-thronging feet,<br>Of virtues, valours, all that builds and saves—<br> <br>Of human loves responsive to the sweet<br>Melodious importunity of waves?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only know that this empurpled range,<br>This golden shore, this great transcendent sea,<br>Are now a memory that will not change<br>Till I become as they—a memory.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Brunton+Stephens">James Brunton Stephens</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415700" data-title="Cape Byron de James Brunton Stephens" data-description="Upon the orient utmost of the land, Enfranchised of the world, alone, and free, I stood; before me, and on either hand, The interminable solace of the sea. A white-winged hour of heaven, a fugitive Of which the angels wist not, hither fled, Whose..."></div> </div> </div>

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