He paused, and looked again towards the bed,
As though he feared his strange sea-guest might flee
Like some wild spirit, born of wondering foam,
That wins from man the shelter of his breast,
Then, on a night of moon-enchanted tides,
Leaps with shrill laughter to its native seas,
Bearing his soul within its glistening arms,
To drown his peace on earth and hope of heaven
In cold eternities of lightless deeps.
But still in dreamless sleep the stranger lay,