Wandering with you the shore
Which parallels our river
      Like a second thought,
Singular and sad I wore
The habit of a lover
      Almost inside out.

Night in its black behaving
Muffled every lamp and dyed
      The wooly season,
Pig-iron boats were leaving
For the lake, slowly the loud
      Bridges had risen:

A landscape for the lonely
Or the lewd, as you observed,
      When of a sudden
Something steep and with only
Momentary warning moved
      Out of the hidden

Harbor. It was a dark boat
And Cytherea it said
      Low on the long bow.
“A cabin for two” cried out
A voice, and I saw a head
      That I thought I knew—

“Fifteen days to the Island:
We sail tonight with the tide!”
      I remember now,
Turning, how your face went blind.
The river knocked in its bed
      And although a few

Gulls were loud in their abuse
You did not once look up. When
      To their obloquy
No protest was made, I chose
To learn what I’ve always known:
      We shall never go.