A Winter Dawning

The winter haze pours round the silent dawn;
The steady tides roll in to the rythmic deep-sea swell;
A cold satanic sun ironically "shines"—
a travesty of "warmth"—a parody of hell;
But the touring cliffs gloom through the haze to overawe mankind,
while the little humans patter out,
unheeding that primeval power,
to scrabble through their petty lives
with the awful granite looming thwart their ways;
Yet creation's dawn lies cloaking all the earth
peace unutterable conferring, though that evil glow distorts
and majestic impotence becomes a crime;
Till, each headland stands, incarnate might, revealed
against the burning
as a flame god wracks the veiling mists
to rouse a throbbing universe across a roaring void!

Rip Van Winkle.