To -- no one that you know!
And sigh for lack of heaven, -- but not
The heaven the creeds bestow.




VII.

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port, --
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!




VIII.

AT HOME.