The Days of a Man 



1897 



Lights the unexpectant air. 



Thou art gazing full at me, 



Thou who art the world to me; 



Eyes I have the right to miss, 



Lips I have the right to kiss; 



All that generous Life has brought me, 



All there is sweet Love has taught me 



Smiles at me from yonder wall 



Glances, smiles, and that is all! 



What to me the haughty North? 



What his minions rushing forth? 



What the huge inchoate ghosts 



Of his ever vanquished host? 



What the mighty battle-shocks 



On grim Komandorski's rocks? 



What the moaning of the sea, 



Troubled from eternity? 



What though cold the bulwarks are 



In the British man-o'-war? 



Thou, dear heart, hast been with me! 



Thou who art the world to me! 



What sweet necromancy brought 



Thus the vision of my thought 



O'er these thousand leagues at sea? 



Thus it chanced in gathering night 



Just one wisp of rosy light, 



Strayed from none can tell you where - 



Through the tangling ghosts of air, 



From some sunset, it may be, 



On the far Kamchatkan Sea, 



Through the trailing robes and gray 



Of the mists along its way, 



Till it, slant and flutteringly, 



Fell athwart my porthole here, 



Rested on thy picture, dear. 



And I bless the wisp of light, 

 And I bless thy sweet Good Night! 



C 594 3 



