A Gray Day

Forth from a sky of windless gray
Pours down the soft, persistent rain;
And she for whom I sigh in vain.
Who makes my bliss, now makes my pain,
Being far from me this autumn day, —
So far away.

Upon the waters void and gray
No floating sail appears in sight;
The dull rain and the humid light
No wind has any heart to spite,
This dreary, weary, autumn day,
With love away.

No gull wings out 'twixt gray and gray, —
All gray, as far as eye can reach;
The sea too listless seems for speech.
And vaguely frets upon the beach,
As knowing she, this autumn day,
Is far away.

Ah, like that sea my life looks gray;
Like a forgotten land it lies,
With no light on it from her eyes
Lovely and changeful as those skies
'Neath which she walks this autumn day
So far away.

But they shall pass, these skies of gray,
And she for whom I sigh in vain,
Who makes my bliss and makes my pain,
Shall turn my gray to gold again.
Being not, as now, that future day.
So far away.