The Fishers Widow

The boats go out and the boats come

Under the wintry sky;

And the rain and foam are white in the wind,

And the white gulls cry.

She sees the sea when the wind is

Swept by a windy rain;

And her heart's a-weary of sea and

As the long days wane.

She sees the torn sails fly in the foam,

Broad on the sky-line gray;

And the boats go out and the boats come in,

But there's one away.