So fell I, from those high fancies, to the quiet of a heart
Knowing well how Duty maketh each one’s share the better part.
As again I looked about me—North and South, and East and West—
Now of all the wide world over still my haven seemed the best.
Calm, and slowly lifting upward, rose the eastern glory higher,
Gilding sea, and shore, and vessel, and the city-crowning spire.
Then the sailors shook their canvas to the dryness of the sun,
And along the harbor-channel glided schooners, one by one.
At the last I sought my cottage; there, before the garden gate,
By the lilac, stood my darling, looking for her truant mate.