I Am Like One That For Long Days Had Sate by Robert Louis Stevenson
I AM like one that for long days had sate, With seaward eyes set keen against the gale, On some lone foreland, watching sail by sail, The portbound ships for one ship that was late; And sail by sail, his heart burned up with joy, And cruelly was quenched, until at last One ship, the looked-for pennant at its mast, Bore gaily, and dropt safely past the buoy; And lo! the loved one was not there - was dead. Then would he watch no more; no more the sea With myriad vessels, sail by sail, perplex His eyes and mock his longing. Weary head, Take now thy rest; eyes, close; for no more me Shall hopes untried elate, or ruined vex.
For thus on love I waited; thus for love Strained all my senses eagerly and long; Thus for her coming ever trimmed my song; Till in the far skies coloured as a dove, A bird gold-coloured flickered far and fled Over the pathless waterwaste for me; And with spread hands I watched the bright bird flee And waited, till before me she dropped dead. O golden bird in these dove-coloured skies How long I sought, how long with wearied eyes I sought, O bird, the promise of thy flight! And now the morn has dawned, the morn has died, The day has come and gone; and once more night About my lone life settles, wild and wide.