Men’s cruel love, that kills and buries not!
Naked and torn we lie beneath their feet,
Who, had they known, in sorrow would have crept
Thro’ griefs entombing night with what once held
Such joys and tears for them!
(As she turns to the sea a voice in the distance is heard singing through the twilight:)
O that sound, not wind or sea,
From no bird nor dreamland blown,
Bearing you away from me,
Crying: “One must go alone!”