Now I am a plant, a weed, Bending and swinging On a rocky ledge; And now I am a long brown grass Fluttering like flame; I am a reed; An old shell singing For ever the same; A drift of sedge; A white, white stone; A bone; Until I pass Into sand again, And spin and blow To and fro, to and fro, On the edge of the sea In the fading light — For the light fades. But if you were to come you would not say: “She is not waiting here for me; She has forgotten.” Have we not in play Disguised ourselves as weed and stones and grass While the strange ships did pass Gently, gravely, leaving a curl of foam That uncurled softly about our island home… Bubbles of foam that glittered on the stone Like rainbows? Look, darling! No, they are gone. And the white sails have melted into the sailing sky
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