Meeting at Night
the gray sea the long black land,
and the yellow half-moon large and low,
and the startled little waves that leap,
in fiery ringlets from their sleep,
as I gain the cove with pushing prow,
and quench its speed I' the slushy sand.
then a mile of warm sea-scented beach,
three fields to cross till a farm appears,
a tap at the pane, the quick shaarp scratch,
and blue spurt of a lighted match,
and a voice less loud, through its joy and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
