The Atlantic Monthly/Volume 1/Number 6/Happiness

Wing-Footed! thou abid'st with him That asks it not: but he who hath Watched o'er the waves thy fading path Will never more on ocean's rim, At morn or eve, behold returning Thy high-heaped canvas shoreward yearning: Thou only teachest us the core And inmost meaning of No More, Thou, who first showest us thy face Turned o'er the shoulder's parting grace, And whose sad footprints we can trace Away from every mortal door!