The span half-sped, we loose the head
In the teeth of the ocean’s frown,—
When the waves recoiled from the things we said,
For the stubborn fog dropped down!
The fog that shifts, the fog that drifts
Sank lazily onto the sea,
And we snatched one glimpse thro’ the final rifts
And steered from memory....
Like a wraith of snows her sheets arose,—