WHEN THE WIND IS LOW

When the wind is low, and the sea is soft, And the far heat-lightning plays On the rim of the West where dark clouds nest On a darker bank of haze; When I lean o'er the rail with you that I love And gaze to my heart's content; I know that the heavens are there above— But you are my firmament. When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow And the watch climbs up the shroud; When the dim mast dips as the vessel slips Thro the foam that seethes aloud; I know that the years of our life are few, And fain as a bird to flee, That time is as brief as a drop of dew— But you are Eternity.