I.
The jagged teeth of waiting rocks,
now drip their foamy sea-white froth,
unsleeping guards the cove they block
and watch their careless gliding prey.
Now closer closer comes the ship,
and gives them taste of wild spray.
Closer closer rise and dip
flying on the water’s way.
But blithely past the ship does mock,
the wind-borne laughter only taunts
the still unsatiated rocks.
II.
White, white is the road of the sea
And the tower of the star
White the swan that wings to meet
The herald of the dawn.
Oh see the sprume that leaps to sky,
And see the vaulted dome on high,
Oh do they meet where laughs the sea
On Elvenhome's white shore?
III.
The years never lay on me heavy,
But light as the wind in the trees
That flits in the spring, forth from the sea
Such the years to me.
The years they lie on her heavy,
Each restless fleeting day
That into shadow slips away
So the years to her.
I cry to the sun to halt,
And beg the moon to wait,
Oh leave unfading the autumn blooms
And she’ll turn and smile at me.
The years they lie on me heavy,
Each grizzled winter and bare,
Too swift now fall the changing leaves
But yet unchanged I’ll be.
