Classic Poem

I waited for thee: ever did I wait.
No music sounded through the shades of night
Or when the moon upon the waves was bright
Or when the sun swept through the morning's gate
Or when the innumerable breakers white
Flung at the scowling clouds their angry hate, —
But, maddened by the loneliness of fate,
I yearned towards thee as towards my soul's own light.

I knew thee not, — but music spake of thee
And of the sacred beauty of thy breast,
And all the voices of the mournful sea
Said, " Here is peace for ever, here is rest;
Thou shalt outstrip the foot of pain when She
Crowneth and endeth thy life's fevered quest. "