YOU sang that song beside an olden sea,
In some low dream, some hundred years ago;
The time, the place is all unknown to me --
It is the feeling in my heart I know.
We were two Grecians then, I do believe,
And caught a dream some fair god's passion sighed;
Time wandered far, and left our hearts to grieve --
But somewhere Love lived on, though all else died.
Dear, as you sing, it all comes back to me;
The mood, though filled with centuries of strife
Is the same ecstasy; only the sea
Seems grown a little weary of its life.
No change has come unto your voice and heart,
No shadow on your face; and in your eyes --
Though Time has kept them from my eyes apart --
The rapture of sea-dreams and memories.
William Stanley Braithwaite
