Far over the summer sea,
When the great gold moon low lies
In the purple-deepened skies
I drift on tearfully
Till a spirit form doth rise
Low down, low down,
'Twixt the orbèd moon and me
Far over the summer sea.
IV
Far over the summer sea
With thy foam-cold limbs wound sweet
'Round hair and throat and feet
To slay me utterly;
At each mad, hot heart beat
A kiss, a kiss,
To drain the soul with thee,
Deep, deep in the summer sea.
FACE TO FACE.
Dead! and all the haughty fate
Fair on throat and face of wax,
White, calm hands crossed still and lax,
Cold, impassionate!
Dead! and no word whispered low
At the dull ear now could wake
One responsive chord or make
One wan temple glow.
Dead! and no hot tear would stir
All that woman sweet and fair,
Woman soul from feet to hair
Which was once of her.
God! and thus to die! and I—
I must live though life be but
One long, hard, monotonous rut,
There to plod and—die!