Page:Poems (IA poems00clar).pdf/15

 The homeless wind sweeps up the rack From the waste of turbid sea; I shudder to think that dismal waste Lieth 'tween thee and me, Lieth 'tween thee and me, And the dun earth shrouds thy breast; But I know the verdant grass and flowers Arc tender of thy rest. Heavily down on the eerie wind Beats the frozen winter rain,- It throbs in the deep, dark forest depths Like a human heart in pain, Like a human heart in pain, As my own throbs on to-night, Thinking of thee in the cold and dark, And I in the warmth and light. Never a message cometh to me; Oh, how cruel it seems! (5)