The Horizon
OH, would, oh, would that thou and I,
Now this brief day of love is past,
Could toward the sunset straightway fly,
And fold our wearied wings at last
There, where the sea-line meets the sky.
A sweet thing and a strange ’twould be
Thus, thus to break our prison bars,
And know that we at last were free
As voiceful waves and silent stars,—
There, where the sky-line meets the sea.
But vain the longing! thou and I,
As we have been must ever be,
Yet thither, wind, oh, waft my sigh,
There where the sky-line meets the sea,—
There where the sea-line meets the sky.
James Ashcroft Noble.