It would be well to work in this sweet place.
‘But you and I are one—our hopes and need,
Our joy and love are in the world of men;
Let fall the sail and bid the rowers speed,
Life calls aloud—Back to the city then.’
So spake she, bathed in sunshine and delight,
Her hand upon the wooden cross whose shade
Falls on the landing-place. She was so bright
That when I looked on her I was afraid.
Good cause for fear—one little month and then