For hopes that will never be born again

From the womb of the wavering sea.

It calls to me, it calls to me,

The luring voice of the rebel sea!

And I long with a love that is born of tears

For the wild fresh life, and the glorying fears,

For the quest and the mystery.

[Pg 58]

It wails to me, it wails to me,

Of the deep dark graves in the yawning sea;

And I hear the voice of a boy that is gone.

But the lad sleeps sound till the judgment-dawn

In the heart of the wind-swept sea.

[Pg 59]

Incompleteness.

Since first I met thee, Dear, and long before

I knew myself beloved, save by the sense

All women have, a shadowy confidence

Half-fear, that feels its bliss nor asks for more,

I have learned new desires, known Love's distress

 Prev. P 42/57 next