Aubade

We woke together on a gusty dawn
in the dim house amid the level waste
and stared in anguish on the stretch of years
filled with grey dawn and ever-weeping wind.

for as the hour hung still ’twixt night and day
we whom the dark had drawn so close together
at that dead tide as strangers saw each other
strangers divided by a sea of years.

we might not weep out our passion of despair
but in lorn trance we gazed upon each other
and wonder’d what strange ways had brought our hands
together in that chamber of the west.

we felt the dumb compulsion of the hour
to wander forth in spirit on the wind
and drift far apart in undiscover’d realms
of some blank world where dawn for ever wept.