Meeting at Night
I
The grey 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.
II
Then a mile of warm
sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a
farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick
sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted
match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its
joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating
each to each!
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