The Diver

I clasp my hands above me, bend my breast,

And take my plunge into these silent regions, --

Those ever-gracious, healing depths, where legions

Of human hearts have found their final rest.

The silent there sifts cooling on the sands;

No storm disturbs that everlasting quiet;

The coral gleams; the sea-flower blossoms by it;

And unseen currents break on pearly strands.

I, too, once wrought upon the sun-warmed earth.

But ah! the light was blinding in its brightness;

The noon-day sky, relentless in its whiteness;

The stars unpitying, in their nightly mirth.

No peace for me lived in the sunset’s glow;

No faith came to me from my daily striving,

No hope – until I learned the trick of diving

For the pearls that lie in wait below.

H. C. Peterson

The Kiote, Midsummer 1899.