shall i search for home amid foaming waves,
and on the shore, whereon i sit to weep?
kisses ‘pon sailors’ cracked lips twixt their graves –            
porcelain dreams, aye, i’ll sing thee to sleep.

and i, warm wishes and an unknown name,
n’er-ceasing sighs ‘mongst mine own doleful face –
soft! thou would’st think i, ethereal dame,
would amount to more than moth-eaten lace.

pray romance blooms ‘tween chapters one and two;
for us each morrow t’will be but a dream.
even but now, i shall bid you adieu –
i go to seek life more than this doth seem.

ere wish i upon stars in evening sky;
perchance i’ll send for thee, midst last goodbye.