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THE TRAIL FROM THE SEA
And the face of love, the evening face of love, at a window waiting,Shall ever a kindled Light on any long-unlifting shore,Shall ever a Harbor Light like that light matter?
Ah no! so enough of the sea and the soul for a season.Too long followed they leave life as a dream,Reality as a mirage when port is made."Ever in sight of the human," is the helm-word of the wisest,For earth is not earth to one upon the flood of infinity;To the eye, then, it is but an atom-star, adrift, and oh,No longer warm with the beating of countless hearts.
No longer warm with the human throb—the simple breath of to-day,With yester-hours or the near dreams of to-morrow.

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