As one who sails upon a wide, blue sea
Far out of sight of land, his mind intent
Upon the sailing of his little boat,
On tightening1 ropes and shaping fair his course,
Hears suddenly, across the restless sea,
The rhythmic2 striking of some towered clock,
And wakes from thoughtless idleness to time:
Time, the slow pulse which beats eternity3!
So through the vacancy4 of busy life
At intervals5 you cross my path and bring
The deep solemnity of passing years.
For you I have shed bitter tears, for you
I have relinquished6 that for which my heart
Cried out in selfish longing7. And to-night
Having just left you, I can say: 'T is well.
Thank God that I have known a soul so true,
So nobly just, so worthy8 to be loved!
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