Henry Abbey (Генри Эбби)

Kisses and a Ring

I never behold the sea
Rush up to the hand of the shore,
And with its vehement lips
Kiss its down-dropt whiteness o'er,
But I think of that magic night,
When my lips, like waves on a coast,
Broke over the moonlit hand
Of her that I love the most.

I never behold the surf
Lit by the sun into gold,
Curl and glitter and gleam,
In a ring-like billow rolled,
But I think of another ring,
A simple, delicate band,
That in the night of our troth
I placed on a darling hand.

1. On a Great Warrior
2. An Enquiry of the Sexton
3. Donald
4. In Memory of General Grant
5. The Vendor of Violets

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