And laid him on the sand beneath a palm,
His worn young face was partly torn away,
His eyes, that saw the world no more, were calm
We could not close his eyelids, stiff with blood,—
But, oh, my brother, I had changed with thee
For I am still tormented in the flood,
Whilst thou hast done thy work, and reached the sea.
My Desire
Fate has given me many a gift
To which men most aspire,