Ears in the turrets
Hands grumble on the door,
Eyes in the gables
The fingers at the locks.
Shall I unbolt or
Alone till the day I
Unseen by
In this white house?
Hands, hold you poison or grapes?
Beyond this island
By a thin sea of
And a bone coast,
The land lies out of
And the hills out of mind.
No birds or flying
Disturbs this island's rest.
Ears in this island
The wind pass like a fire,
Eyes in this island
Ships anchor off the bay.
Shall I run to the
With the wind in my hair,
Or stay till the day I
And welcome no sailor?
Ships, hold you poison or grapes?
Hands grumble on the door,
Ships anchor off the bay,
Rain beats the sand and slates.
Shall I let in the stranger,
Shall I welcome the sailor,
Or stay till the day I die?
Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships,
Hold you poison or grapes?
