In the doorway

The swallow has set her six young on the rail,

And looks sea-ward:

The water's in stripes like a snake, olive-pale

To the leeward,—

On the weather-side, black, spotted white with the wind.

“Good fortune departs, and disaster's behind,”—

Hark, hark, the wind with its wants and its infinite wail!

And why must cold spread? but wherefore bring change

To the spirit,

God meant should mate his with an infinite range,

And inherit

His power to put life in the darkness and cold?

Oh, live and love worthily, bear and be bold!

Whom Summer made friends of, let Winter estrange!