And never a May but May；
We are in love’s hand today；
Where shall we go？
Our land-wind is the breath
Of sorrows kissed to death
And joys that were；
Our ballast is a rose；
Our way lies where God knows
And love knows where.
We are in love’s hand today—
Our seamen are fledged Loves，
Our masts are bills of doves，
Our decks fine gold；
Our ropes are dead maids’hair，
Our stores are love-shafts fair
And manifold.
