Page:Pictures In Rhyme.djvu/24



his cheeks between my hands, I kissed his face and forehead o'er, Where he lay on the sheeted sands Which stretched along the shore.

The surf crawled slowly up, and sad,

Like some sea-dog which owned his sway,

And yet had rent him—sightless, mad,

It came and moaned all day.

But there he lay, so still and white;

I dared not weep, I thought he slept.

The tearless day shrank back from night;

I might have woke him had I wept.

The night sank down into the seas,

New morning burst upon the skies;

And with its first breath on the breeze

I stooped and kissed his eyes.