BY THE CLIFF
I
Is it daytime (guess),
You that feed my soul
To excess
With that light in those eyes
And those curls drawn like a scroll
In that round grave guise?
No or yes?
II
Oh, the end, I'd say!
Such a foolish thing
(Pure girls' play!)
As a mere mute heart,
Was it worth a kiss, a ring,
This? for two must part—
Not to-day.
III
Look, the whole sand crawls,
Hums, a heaving hive,
Scrapes and scrawls— Such a buzz and burst!
Here just one thing's not alive,
One that was at first—
But life palls.
IV
Yes, my heart, I know,
Just my heart's stone dead—
Yes, just so.
Sick with heat, those worms
Drop down scorched and overfed—
No more need of germs!
Let them go.
V