Out on the sea the sampans ride
And the mountains brim with mist and sun.
O we are in Japan again
And the spell is about us spun!
The spell of the old enchanting East,
Of Buddha and many a blissful priest,
The spell that has never, never ceased
To haunt us!
Glad we behold the temple-tops
And the lanterns in religious row
Standing, like acolytes of stone,
Where the pine and camphor grow.
And o'er them the old pagoda prays
Blessing upon their dreaming days,
And upon the eightfold sacred ways
From Sorrow!
Ah, and the torii too is there
Where the tranced sea enters to his shrine
Daily, with tidal mystery
And majesty divine.
He enters now, as the nuptial sea
Of love first entered our hearts, to be
Lord of their tides eternally,
And Master!