I went and stood outside myself,

   Spelled the dark sky

   And ship-lights nigh,

And grumbling winds that passed thereby.

Then next inside myself I looked,

   And there, above

   All, shone my Love,

That nothing matched the image of.

Beyond myself again I ranged;

   And saw the free

   Life by the sea,

And folk indifferent to me.

O ’twas a charm to draw within

   Thereafter, where

   But she was; care

For one thing only, her hid there!

But so it chanced, without myself

   I had to look,

   And then I took

More heed of what I had long forsook:

The boats, the sands, the esplanade,

   The laughing crowd;

   Light-hearted, loud

Greetings from some not ill-endowed;

The evening sunlit cliffs, the talk,

   Hailings and halts,

   The keen sea-salts,

The band, the Morgenblätter Waltz.

Still, when at night I drew inside

   Forward she came,

   Sad, but the same

As when I first had known her name.

Then rose a time when, as by force,

   Outwardly wooed

   By contacts crude,

Her image in abeyance stood . . .

At last I said: This outside life

   Shall not endure;

   I’ll seek the pure

Thought-world, and bask in her allure.

Myself again I crept within,

   Scanned with keen care

   The temple where

She’d shone, but could not find her there.

I sought and sought.  But O her soul

   Has not since thrown

   Upon my own

One beam!  Yea, she is gone, is gone.

From an old note.