XLII
Reading edition
AS the wild waves roll o’er some rock-bound coast, And break in futile effort to possess Something beyond their reach, I must confess Am I in my fierce passion, that can boast No more of thee than surging seas at most Do find as they rebound in their distress, Half-clothed in weeds and winter’s sombre dress; So often have I thought thy love was lost! Yet, at one little word or smile from thee, These winter storms do change to summer seas, And I am softened in a moment’s time. So would the magic of thyself give me A sweeter sentiment, that still doth please More than the summits of desire to climb.