Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington

Afternoon

PURPLE headland over yonder,
    Fleecy, sun-extinguished moon,
I am here alone, and ponder
    On the theme of Afternoon.

Past has made a groove for Present,
    And what fits it is: no more.
Waves before the wind are weighty;
    Strongest sea-beasts shape the shore.

Just what is is just what can be,
    And the Possible is free;
'Tis by being, not by effort,
    That the firm cliff juts to sea.

With an uncontentious calmness
    Drifts the Fact before the "Law;"
So we name the ordered sequence
    We, remembering, foresaw.

And a law is mere procession
    Of the forcible and fit;
Calm of uncontested Being,
    And our thought that comes of it.

In the mellow shining daylight
    Lies the Afternoon at ease,
Little willing ripples answer
    To a drift of casual breeze.

Purple headland to the westward!
    Ebbing tide, and fleecy moon!
In the "line of least resistance,"
    Flows the life of Afternoon.

1. The Poet’s Tear
2. Unperfected
3. “Merle Wood”
4. Revolution
5. Not Ye Who Goad

Emma Lazarus Afternoon ("Small, shapeless drifts of cloud")

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