Naxos, Iii Poem by William Fay

I shall die waiting in this harbour town,
Tangled my love in the spider's thread;
Like the fishermen's net, cast out at dawn.
Like lines upon maps, where the black ships go,

That mark the distance between you and I.
Like the lines of urgent words which haunt
Your letters, to be read again and again,
Through the feverish, most lonely nights.

To remember when our love like a fresh skein
Seemed infinite and touched only with joy.
Now the thought of your caress, a single kiss,
Makes me weep; the tears falling, to cling,

Like pearls of morning dew, heavy as iron,
Bending the silk of memories bright web.