But,—the dim vast forests along the shore,
That whisper wonderful things o’ nights,—
These are things that I value more,
My beautiful “surface rights.”
Drifting, drifting down the River,—
Stars a-tremble about the sky—
Ah, my lover, my heart is breaking,
Breaking, breaking, I know not why.
Why is Love such a sorrowful thing?
This I never could understand;