English poem
Ii
by William Lyon Phelps (1865–1943)
What? To fix me thus meant nothing? But I can't tell (there's my weakness) What her look said!--no vile cant, sure, About "need to strew the bleakness Of some lone shore with its pearl-seed, That the sea feels"--no "strange yearning That such souls have, most to lavish Where there's chance of least returning."