A Sea-Shore Grave. To M. J. L.

O wish that’s vainer than the plash Of these wave-whimsies on the shore: “Give us a pearl to fill the gash— God, let our dead friend live once more!”

O wish that’s stronger than the stroke Of yelling wave and snapping levin; “God, lift us o’er the Last Day’s smoke, All white, to Thee and her in Heaven!”

O wish that’s swifter than the race Of wave and wind in sea and sky; Let’s take the grave-cloth from her face And fall in the grave, and kiss, and die!

Look! High above a glittering calm Of sea and sky and kingly sun, She shines and smiles, and waves a palm— And now we wish—Thy will be done!