when at frail time this changeling heart
the endless pier may stalk no more
righteous gales like chariots rise
an ember holds the weary hand

when at pale dawn your lips forgot
a siren blows no gentle noon
seaspray weathers gentile boots
no henge of silver gilds the quay

when at half knoll ten belfries shout
no more might redness throb the veins
a passing takes that place of wrath
and dwindling hope to earth returns.

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