Frank Oliver Call moves between two dawn landscapes in this sonnet. The first is an imagined Eastern scene: white-robed worshippers leave shadowy temples and walk through bamboo groves toward a dark lotus pond that gleams like a jewel. Their chanting rises with the sunrise, and lotus buds open to the light. The second landscape is the speaker’s own: a misty northern lake ringed by tall evergreens. Watching white lily buds at daybreak, he feels that same old impulse to worship beauty stirring in him. The poem creates a hushed, almost sacred mood. It suggests that the urge to find something divine in nature—whether in a tropical lotus pond or a cold northern lake—is a “world-old dream” shared across cultures and time. The language is soft, still, and reverent, as if the speaker is witnessing a quiet ritual.
The Lotus-Worshippers — Summary
With silent feet in trailing robes of white They crept from shadowy temples, far beyond Tall bamboo groves, to seek the lotus-pond That gleamed like some dark jewel through the night Upon great Buddha's breast. The crimson height Echoed their chanting as the morning dawned, And each bud, breaking from its silver bond, Lifted its cup to catch the golden light.
And here beside this mist-bound northern lake, Encircled by tall spires of Gothic firs, The ancient beauty-worship wakes and stirs Within me, as I watch the morning break Upon white lily-buds, whose lips agleam Whisper the secret of the world-old dream.