I have a little husband
And he is gone to sea,
The winds that whistle round his ship
Fly home to me.
The winds that sigh about me
Return again to him;
So I would fly, if only I
Were light of limb.
by Edwin Arlington RobinsonShe'd look upon us, if she could,
As hard as Rhadamanthus would;
Yet one may see,—who sees her face,
Her crown of silver and of lace,
Her mystical serene address
Of age alloyed with loveliness,—