On Deck
Truly the couch is hard to outward seeming,
The vessel sways on the unquiet sea,
Yet what care I? who nightly in my dreaming
Lay your soft hair between the planks and me.
Storms have delayed us, and the cargo, shifted,
Lists us to leeward as the breakers roll,
I had not cared, not even though we drifted
Out to uncharted oceans round the Pole.
There was a Rani once, who long neglected,
Nightly arrayed herself in silk and gold,
Waiting the footsteps, loved and long expected—
Waiting the lover, whom she could not hold.
Once on her wedding night, indeed, he sought her
Once, and once only; then his ardour died.
All sequent evenings of her youth, but brought her
A great desire ever unsatisfied.
Nightly she lay, her tears and jewels gleaming
In the dim silver from the stars above,
Nightly her limbs, unconscious in her dreaming,
Still took the tender attitudes of love.
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