Shapes of Clay

Grief for an absent lover, husband, friend,

Is barely felt before it comes to end:

A score of early consolations serve

To modify its mouth's dejected curve.

But woes of creditors when debtors flee

Forever swell the separating sea.

When standing on an alien shore you mark

The steady course of some intrepid bark,

How sweet to think a tear for you abides,

Not all unuseful, in the wave she rides!—

That sighs for you commingle in the gale

Beneficently bellying her sail!