The Faultless Shore

WE HAVE survived the dead-white chill of moons
That dogs have howled at, in terror remembering dreams
And the running, always the running through the thick grass.
We have outlived these things; we are sure they pass,
Or are not what they seem.

We wake, and are content. The captured sky
Welcomes our heavy wings and makes them bright.
The sullen, shadowed earth with flowering light
Blazes: we watch, and watch our fathers die,
And know their death is right.

We have taken islands rough with iron and stone;
There we correct what was not well before.
By how much more we build, and how much more,
Weakness crumbles: feather and leaf and bone
Lapse from the faultless shore.

This is our world. We have made it what we could.
We have outlawed fear; we have fixed the sun at noon.
What is there now shall dare escape the grave,
What footsteps shall recross the echoing wood
And stumble into the cave?