Appeared in white robes and in roses clad.”
“I think that love is like a leaning sail
Swept toward a far horizon, swift in flight.
The seas are blue. But soon the wind must fail,
And all of Heaven’s will cannot avail
To keep the ship from drifting toward the night.
I am not sure of this: but yesterday
There was no eager passion in her lips;
And so I said, ‘My dear, we are but ships
Passing away in time—leaning away’.”