Calais Sands

A thousand knights have reined their steedsTo watch this line of sand-hills run,Along the never-silent strait,To Calais glittering in the sun;

To look toward Ardres' Golden FieldAcross this wide aërial plain,Which glows as if the Middle AgeWere gorgeous upon earth again.

Oh, that to share this famous scene,I saw, upon the open sand,Thy lovely presence at my side,—Thy shawl, thy look, thy smile, thy hand!

How exquisite thy voice would come,My darling, on this lonely air!How sweetly would the fresh sea-breezeShake loose some band of soft brown hair!

Yet now my glance but once hath rovedO'er Calais and its famous plain;To England's cliffs my gaze is turned,O'er the blue strait mine eyes I strain.

Thou comest! Yes! the vessel's cloudHangs dark upon the rolling sea.Oh that yon sea-bird's wings were mine,To win one instant's glimpse of thee!

I must not spring to grasp thy hand,To woo thy smile, to seek thine eye;But I may stand far off, and gaze,And watch thee pass unconscious by,—

And spell thy looks, and guess thy thoughts,Mixed with the idlers on the pier.Ah! might I always rest unseen,So I might have thee always near!

To-morrow hurry through the fieldsOf Flanders to the storied Rhine!To-night those soft-fringed eyes shall closeBeneath one roof, my queen! with mine.