Stella Maris

Why is it I remember yet

You, of all women one has met

In random wayfare, as one meets

The chance romances of the streets,

The Juliet of a night? I know

Your heart holds many a Romeo.

And I, who call to mind your face

In so serene a pausing-place,

Where the bright pure expanse of sea,

The shadowy shore's austerity,

Seems a reproach to you and me,

I too have sought on many a breast

The ecstasy of love's unrest,

I too have had my dreams, and met

(Ah me!) how many a Juliet.

Why is it, then, that I recall

You, neither first nor last of all?

For, surely as I see to-night

The glancing of the lighthouse light,

Against the sky, across the bay,

As turn by turn it falls my way,

So surely do I see your eyes

Out of the empty night arise,

Child, you arise and smile to me

Out of the night, out of the sea,

The Nereid of a moment there,

And is it seaweed in your hair?