Then—even as the sea-drowned cliffs behind—
Felt sorrow drowning into memory;
And heard, in every thrill of every wind,
New voices welcoming across the sea.
Until it seemed nor land nor love had power
To hold my heart in any firm duress:
Grieving, I sorrowed but a little hour;
Loving, I knew desire’s sure faithfulness:
Until, by many a love dissatisfied,
Of each mistrustful and to each untrue,