Classic Poem

Sweet, for the quest of thee—
Sweet, for the test of thee—
Bright shines the moon on the rim of the sea,
While I am gliding on,
Striding on, riding on,
Mad with the thirst that your lips gave to me.

Though hearts be quivering,
Though ships be shivering,
Night and its demons break out of their grave,
Swift to my Beautiful,
Draw me, love dutiful,
Love, like a storm-bird that laughs at the wave.

Sick of the motion-dirge,
Of the wide ocean-surge,
Brackish the waves of life, naught I may drink,
Only where, swelling up,
Sweet waters, welling up,
Mark me my fountain, your dear lips the brink.