Lit2Go

To My Wife

A Gulf between us rolls, my own,
A waste both wild and wide.
Yet,—wind so strong has never blown,—
Nor rolled so roiled a tide,—
Nor storm-roar stress to Gulf be-known,—
—Can’st keep from thine own side
My ships of love.

My ships of love sail always true
As compass heeds its star,
With tithings rich as kings ne’er knew
(Heart’s tribute from afar).
Each moment sail, or one or two,
And straight are drawn by lode Heart-Star
To you—their port of love.

If gulf or Sea, or Time, my own,
Or else that life may hold
Between us sets or bound or tone
Know this…Those all are—old—
My love, of else, is young alone:
Though wind and Tide and Life be Told,
My love will find its own.