Overheard On A Saltmarsh

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  Nymph, nymph, what are your beads? Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them? Give them me. No. Give them me. Give them me. No. Then I will howl all night in the reeds, Lie in the mud and howl for them. Goblin, why do you love them so? They are better than stars or water, Better than voices of winds that sing, Better than any man's fair daughter, Your green glass beads on a silver ring. Hush, I stole them out of the moon. Give me your beads, I want them. No. I will howl in the deep lagoon For your green glass beads, I love them so. Give them me. Give them. No. - Harold Monro (1879 - 1932)

"George Gray" by Edgar Lee Masters (1868 - 1950)

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What would you like on your headstone? What would your epitaph be?
I pray mine would not be some trite witticism but something that says, "Yep! Without doubt, that's him." Edgar Lee Masters pondered life and death in his poem, "George Gray."


I have studied many times 
The marble which was chiseled for me-- 
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor. 
In truth it pictures not my destination 
But my life. 
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment; 
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid; 
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances. 
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life. 
And now I know that we must lift the sail 
And catch the winds of destiny 
Wherever they drive the boat. 
To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness, 
But life without meaning is the torture 
Of restlessness and vague desire-- 
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.

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