Meeting at Night
The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap in fiery ringlets from their sleep;
As I gain the cove with pushing prow;
And quench its speed I’ the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at eh pane, the quick sharp scratch
And the blue spurt of lighted match.
And a voice less loud, through joys and fears.
Then the two hearts beating each to each.