Like spindrift swept the foam-flakes to his rear, Yet his full heart ne'er omen'd the abyss That yawns in front of all who love foreswear. The fairest maid in this fair land was his— A jewel that the mightiest king might wear— Why had his laggard suit been so remiss? How many loveless days unfruited sped, When every heart-throb now was harvested! |