In a Dark Hour

You are not with me--only the moon,
The sea and the gulls' cry, out of tune;
The myriad cry of the gulls still strewn
On the sands where the tide will enter soon.

You are not with me, only the breath
Of the wind--and then the wind's death.
A shrouding silence then that saith,
"Even as wind love vanisheth."

You are not with me--only fear,
As old as earth's first frenzied bier
That severed two whose hearts were near,
And left one with all Life unclear.