by Robert Crawford
In the hour when Day reposes
Like a vision on the sea,
When thought his tired pinion closes,
One with hope and memory, -
On the sand by the sea-roses
My heart breathes of thee.
I can gather then from sorrow
And from joy what dreams may be
Sweet as those which Love would borrow
For the tender melody,
Which like the light of to-morrow
My heart breathes of thee.
Last updated January 14, 2019