I dream of seas beneath a prow

That leaps upon the surging waves,

And winds that toss and whip and run

Upon a distant watery realm.

I dream of sea birds crying high

Above familiar rampart walls

Whereon I watch and there! afar

A white sail gleams on homeward reach.

I dream of green beloved ways

Where once I fared in childish quest,

For magic in a daisy's face

And mystery 'neath a maple bower.

A silvered wing on salty airs

Soars high above and far beyond

And with it wings my questing heart

To shores beyond a distant sun.

But now my seas are waves of grass,

And winds bear rumor from afar

Of snow upon the frowning peaks

And rain on stern and silent hills.

The very air is scented strange,

The breezes murmur parchment dry,

Caressing like an old maid's hand

Yet comfort will not find me so.

The vault of sky bears not a sound

And 'midst that endless whisp'ring space

I shrink within, a small, lost thing

Cast far upon the winds of chance;

Far from that long familiar hearth

Where blessed voices ring and laugh,

Swept like the gull on tempest gales,

Alas my homeward shores are lost.

Now hark! A step within the hall,

And comes the master of this house.

He paces like a tethered lion,

This golden king, this warrior's son.

Pale eyes burn with kindled flame

And strength and power rest in his hand;

Born to hauberk, sword and spear,

He is the Mark; the Mark is him.

But oh I see a light within,

I feel a trembling in his touch.

So soft his lips touch mine and then

He smiles into my eyes and speaks;

Sweet words that lift my heart awhirl

And banish shadows hurrying.

My love has come and in his hands

My heart rests like a nestling bird.

For he is mine and I am his;

The lion and the swan abide,

One soul within our separate hearts,

As river joins with restless sea.

For though we come from lands apart,

One borne of sea, the other sky,

We twain are joined in matchless bonds

And all he treasures, so shall I.

I am his and he is mine;

My king rests in my cradled arms,

His golden head upon my breast,

Whilst slumber doth caress his brow.

Sleep, my king, my matchless love,

And rest 'til duty calls thee forth,

For I shall guard thy gentle rest

As thou hast guarded e're my heart.

~ FIN ~