Ernest Crosby

  • The Soul of the World

    The soul of the world is abroad to-night—
    Not in yon silvery amalgam of moonbeam and ocean, nor in the pink heat-lightning tremulous on the horizon;
    Not in the embrace of yonder pair of lovers either, heart beating to heart in the shadow of the fishing-smack drawn up on the beach...

  • The Search

    No one could tell me where my Soul might be.
    I searched for God, but God eluded me.
    I sought my Brother out, and found all three.

  • Choir Practice

    As i sit on a log here in the woods among the clean-faced beeches,
    The trunks of the trees seem to me like the pipes of a mighty organ,
    Thrilling my soul with wave on wave of the harmonies of the universal anthem—
    The grand, divine, eonic “I am” chorus.

    The red...