The water sings along our keel,
 The wind falls to a whispering breath;
 I look into your eyes and feel
 So near is love, so far away
 The losing strife of yesterday.
 We watch the swallow skim and dip;
 Some magic bids the world be still;
 Life stands with finger upon lip;
 Love hath his gentle will;
 Though hearts have bled, and tears have burned,
 The river floweth unconcerned.
 We pray the fickle flag of truce
 Still float deceitfully and fair;
 Our eyes must love its sweet abuse;
 This hour we will not care,
 Though just beyond to-morrow's gate,
 Arrayed and strong, the battle wait.





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