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They had come in the night, and the storm, winging back to my breast
These hopes that were hopeless, these dreams that were ever as dreams;
Rending my heart with sharp beaks and their passionate screams,
Leashing my soul with the storm from its haven of rest.

Night long did I put them away, did they turn again,
Till the tumultuous waves bore them out in their creepy recess,
Tossed them back on the reef with a deadly pretence of caress;
Flung up by the hand of the sea, beaten back by the lash of the rain.

White birds, it is over and done, your last passion has paled;
The world has no place for your flight nor my heart for your screams.
O hopes that were hopeless, sweet dreams that were ever as dreams,
Let go! get back to your graves, you have fought and have failed.

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