Amid the rocks a tender, sweet good-bye--
Ah! Well that night could we two understand
What bitter grief was in their ceaseless cry.

The salt wind blew across the rank marsh grass,
And laid its chilling, fingers on our pulse.
Sea nettles lay in many a shapeless mass,
Half hidden, in the garnet hills of dulse.
The awkward crabs ran sideways from our path,
And starfish sprawled face downward in the mud;
While, token of some bleak December's wrath,
A wreck lay stranded high above the flood.

Few were our words. Love speaks from heart to heart,
Nor needs that rude interpreter the tongue.
A few short hours and fate would bid us part,
No more to stray the weedy rocks among.
We dared not trust our bitter thoughts to speech.
For speech had raised the floodgates of our tears;
And so we walked in silence on the beach
With the wild billows wailing in our ears.

How beautiful thou wast! Thy snowy gown,
Whose rustle made sweet music, part revealed
Thy perfect form. Thy thoughtful eyes and brown,
Beneath their drooping lashes half concealed,
Swam in a sea of tears. Thy tresses played
Wild wanton with the wind, and kissed each cheek,
That flushed and paled, till one had well nigh said.
Thy very blood did think and love and speak.