At Twilight

By Edmund Clarence Stedman

The sunset darkens in the west,
The sea-gulls haunt the bay,
And far and high the swallows fly
To watch the dying day.
Now wheie is she that once with me
The rippling waves would list?
And O for the song I loved so long,
And the darling lips I kist!

Yon twinkling sail may whiter gleam
Than falcon's snowy wing,
Her lances far the evening-star
Beyond the waves may fling;
Float on, ah float, enchanted boat,
Bear true hearts o'er the main,
But I shall guide thy helm no more,
Nor whisper love again!