Ah me! I shall not waken soon
From dreams of such divinity!
A spirit singing 'neath the moon
To me.
Wild sea-spray driven of the storm
Is not so wildly white as she,
Who beckoned with a foam-white arm
To me.
With eyes dark green, and golden-green
Long locks that rippled drippingly,
Out of the green wave she did lean
To me.
And sang; till Earth and Heaven seemed
A far, forgotten memory,
And more than Heaven in her who gleamed
On me.
Sleep, sweeter than love's face or home;
And death's immutability;
And music of the plangent foam,
For me!
Sweep over her! with all thy ships,
With all thy stormy tides, O sea!--
The memory of immortal lips
For me!