For You alone can make a sea
With eyes of blue and measureless deep;
With transparent heart
All hidden with endless mystery.
With flying fish perching,
On Your silver hair of surf dancing,
Somber sea-gulls resting
On Your rich watery tresses
As the sun bestows its kisses
And makes them shine.
O Goddess, blue Brine,
Intoxicating all votaries with Your wine,
Your ever blushing scenic face
Surging in all secret solace —
Who, who could make this blue-eyed maiden
But You alone, ah You?
Man may make a myriad things that be
A little while;
But You alone can make a magic sea.

— September 1940

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