Lake Lyrics and Other Poems

by William Wilfred Campbell

 

AT THE LANDING

 
I CANNOT hear you owning
    Your mighty love for me;
For all the lakes far moaning,
For all the waves’ intoning,
    Brings back a love to me:
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    A love that might not be.

The white-winged gulls were flying
    Across the purple light;
Where all our day was dying
On lands dim sunk and lying
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    Far-off where loomed the night;
    And dusk hours wheeled their flight.

He stood where you are standing,
    The west enshrined his brow;
Across the white, scarred landing,
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Wave after wave was stranding,
    Then back with moan and sough;
    He spoke as you spoke now.

He told what you are telling,
    While a sweet, undreamed-of pain
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Up in my heart was welling;
He told the tale whose telling
    Can ne’er be told again:
    O love, but all in vain!

Forgive, this sudden feeling,
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    This strange outburst of woe,
This woman-weakness stealing
O’er me, as though days, reeling,
    Brought back the long ago;
    For love remembers so.
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I could not have you speaking
    Your love, like his, to me;
While shores white moan were making,
And all my heart was breaking,
    For a love that could not be;
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    O, love, it might not be!