Page:Underwoods, Stevenson, 1887.djvu/74

 XXIV

yet, my soul, these friendly fields desert,

Where thou with grass, and rivers, and the breeze,

And the bright face of day, thy dalliance hadst;

Where to thine ear first sang the enraptured birds;

Where love and thou that lasting bargain made.

The ship rides trimmed, and from the eternal shore

Thou hearest airy voices; but not yet

Depart, my soul, not yet awhile depart.

Freedom is far, rest far. Thou art with life

Too closely woven, nerve with nerve intwined;

Service still craving service, love for love,

Love for dear love, still suppliant with tears.