Poetry Archives

When the wind is low, and the sea is soft,
 And the far heat-lightning plays
On the rim of the west where dark clouds nest
 On a darker bank of haze;
When I lean o’er the rail with you that I love
 And gaze to my heart’s content;
I know that the heavens are there above—
 But you are my firmament.

When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow
 And the watch climbs up the shroud;
When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips
 Through the foam that seethes aloud;
I know that the years of our life are few,
 And fain as a bird to flee,
That time is as brief as a drop of dew—
 But you are Eternity.