Zoe Akins

I am the wind that wavers,
You are the certain land;
I am the shadow that passes
Over the sand.
...

I knew his house by the poplar-trees,
Green and silvery in the breeze;
...

A storm is riding on the tide;
Grey is the day and grey the tide,
Far-off the sea-gulls wheel and cry-
A storm draws near upon the tide.
...

The ships are lying in the bay,
   The gulls are swinging round their spars;
My soul as eagerly as they
   Desires the margin of the stars.
...

I

The ferries ply like shuttles in a loom,
And many barques come in across the bay
To lights and bells that signal through the gloom
...

O pale! O vivid! dear!
O disillusioned eyes
Forever near!
O Dream, arise!
...