When round the earth the skies are growing gray;
We to our haunted cliff may sail returning,
Nearing the crags where yesternight we lay.
Thus from the Far Land of our own begetting
I must depart across Sleep's sundering sea,
Throughout the Sim Land wander inly fretting,
Till night drifts back restoring you to me;
Till through the dark I see Love's pennons streaming,
When you will kiss and set my spirit free;
Till through the dusk our dreamland barque drives