  Night, thou art heavy, with no stars to chain Thy darkness unto heaven, that thy feet May dance along these cliffs in gay retreat Of the pursuing sea; heavy as pain Where eyes see not the end, or tears that stain The joy of him who conquers by defeat; Or this dark sea whose heart doth climb and beat The stones that make no sign, then falls again. Cry with the night and wrestle with the wave, Ye two-edged winds that cut this shore and me; I warm me still with thinking of a grave That can not hold the dust's eternal part; For here across the centuries and the sea, A dead hand lies like flame upon my heart. |
|
