UNDER THE CLIFFS.BRIGHT light to windward on the horizon’s verge;To leeward, stormy shadows, violet-black,And the wide sea betweenA vast unfurrowed field of windless green;The stormy shadows flicker on the trackOf phantom sails that vanish and emerge.I gaze across the sea, remembering her.I watch the white sun walk across the sea,This pallid afternoon,With feet that tread as whitely as the moon,And in his fleet and shining feet I seeThe footsteps of another voyager.
BRIGHT light to windward on the horizon’s verge;To leeward, stormy shadows, violet-black,And the wide sea betweenA vast unfurrowed field of windless green;The stormy shadows flicker on the trackOf phantom sails that vanish and emerge.
I gaze across the sea, remembering her.I watch the white sun walk across the sea,This pallid afternoon,With feet that tread as whitely as the moon,And in his fleet and shining feet I seeThe footsteps of another voyager.