18
POEMS.
TO LEEWARD.
Let the boat drift, my lady and my love,
Thou in the stern, I lying at thy feet;
Bend down the eyes my heart was dreaming of
Before God put it in my breast to beat.
Look, where the river opens to the sea,
Twilight is stealing onward lingeringly,
Between the world and our felicity.
Thou in the stern, I lying at thy feet;
Bend down the eyes my heart was dreaming of
Before God put it in my breast to beat.
Look, where the river opens to the sea,
Twilight is stealing onward lingeringly,
Between the world and our felicity.
Sing to me, dear—my soul was buried deep
Through all our time of parting and of pain—
Sing, and the fires of youth and life shall leap
From my wild heart into my veins again.
Rise, evening breeze, and drive the boat on fast;
Fall, evening mist, and hide us from the past—
We take our fate into our hands at last.
Through all our time of parting and of pain—
Sing, and the fires of youth and life shall leap
From my wild heart into my veins again.
Rise, evening breeze, and drive the boat on fast;
Fall, evening mist, and hide us from the past—
We take our fate into our hands at last.
