There is a carnival in Peel to-night,
And joyous laughter rings through starry dark.
Confetti falls in showers, a rainbow arc,
Where it whirls madly in the winking light.
There come the shriek of maidens taking flight,
Snatches of song, unlike the purer lark.
These fill the air, but loud above them, hark,
Swells the full-throated voice of restless might
That lies, swelling and falling by the wall,
The sleepless, ever-changing world of sea.
Forgive us if in answer to the call
Of youth and carnival and gaiety,
We are forgetful of its rise and fall;
Forgetful even, Spirit Blest, of Thee!

Seventy-third Sonnet

7. 12. 29