LAST EVE.
Last eve as I leaned from my lattice, looked out at the night
Where the gray of the sea misted into the gray of the skies,
Came with quick beating of wings and long sorrowful cries
Beautiful birds, and I wept, being blind with their white.
How the wind’s strong invisible hands beat on doorway and pane,
And the sea seemed to writhe and roar in an anguish of thought!
How the moon’s frightened face looking down seemed to shun what she sought.
Hid so pale in cloud fingers to weep in a passion of rain!
