THE HAVEN

 

Out of the wild hurly-burly,

      Over the wide stretching miles,

Out of the wrack of the storm-beaten seas,

      Into a harbor of smiles— Into a haven of necklacing arms—

Out of life's tears and smart,

      Into the shine of your true blue eyes,

Heart o' my love-lorn heart!

 

Out of the struggle and carle, now

      As wild as a bird and free,

Winging afar through storm-beaten dark,

      Shaping life's course to thee;

Into a haven of warm, clinging lips,

      Love o' my love-lorn breast!

Out of life's turmoil and jousts and wounds,

      Into your arms and rest!

 

Out of life's kissless goodnights now,

      To the ripe red lips o' you;

Out of life's lowering storm-gray skies,

      To your true, true eyes and blue;

To a haven where, fingers interlaced,

      Soul o' my love-lorn soul!

Two, just a man and a maid, shall, sit

      Alone on a green clad knoll.

 

Till the westering sun goes down,

      And the world's grim strife shall cease;

Out of life's scars and cark and rue,

      Into your arms and peace!

Out of life's wind-blown, storm-flung wrack,

      And the speeding gray above,

To a haven of clinging lips and arms

      And peace; of a perfect love.