From the shore, yet come not back again.
And their freight is Life, and Love, and lesser things,
Yet as beautiful and good. And ever they set sail
Under golden suns for sea,
Till the summer is gone and shadows fall so gloomily,
At Edgewater!
When the winds of autumn blow
Through the brown vines swinging mournfully,
Calling for the sun disconsolate,
And the rain falls, and the spirit of the deep,