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I
IN lonely bays
Where Love runs wild,
All among the flowering grasses,
Where light, light, light, as a sea-bird’s wing
The chuckle of the child-god passes,
O, to awake, to shake away the night
And find you dreaming there,
On the other side of death, with the sea-wind blowing round you,
And the scent of the thyme in your hair.
II
Tho’ beauty perish,
Perish like a flower,
And song be an idle breath,
Tho’ heaven be a dream, and youth for but an hour,
And life much less than death,
And the Maker less than that He made,
And hope less than despair,
If Death have shores where Love runs wild
I think you might be there.
III
Re-born, re-born
From the splendid sea,
There should you awake and sing,
With every supple sweet from the head to the feet
Modelled like a wood-dove’s wing,—
O, to awake, to shake away the night,
And find you happy there,
On the other side of death, with the sea-wind blowing round you,
And the scent of the thyme in your hair.
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