SHELTERED.
127
For out of one house the gladness Went in a long eclipse,When she fled to-day with her lover,— Fled to the shore and its ships;Never a whisper of parting, Never a kiss on the lips.
And the chill rain beats about her,— Their child with the golden locks,—While out in the thick wild weather, Girt by the sands and the rocks,The little schooner trembles To the tread of the equinox.
Has it come again since we listened? Ah!—Well, then, make the door fast.What a great gust shakes the rafter! How black and bitter the blast!Stir the fire. In the sands to-morrow Will be plenty of drift-wood cast.
