marriage poem

in his guarded tent
what was it the engines said
will you glimmer on the sea?
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
i have heard them in the night
long ago, in the young moonlight
now that i have cooled to you
have you not heard
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
the pale day drowses on the western steep
as a white candle
for these white arms about my neck
i said