Poems (May)/Kathleen

by Edith May

KATHLEEN.

What moans with the east wind?
 Ah, listen, Aileen!
Through the dull mist and rain
I hear it complain.—
 'Tis only the shriek of the curlew,
    Kathleen!

I look to the sea-side,
 The pale shore, Aileen!
There is something adrift
That the waves toss and lift—
 A boat, tempest-torn from its moorings,
    Kathleen!

Under the day-dawn
 She steals forth, Aileen.
What lies nigh the door,
By the waves sent ashore?
 Oh deep be thy slumbers this morning,
    Kathleen!