On the troubled shores
Shall walk no more
The forgotten feet of time.
All is overcome,
And time undone,
And life no more than rhyme
And verse and sonnet
And rhyming couplet
And words upon pages in books.
Fancy and thought
Through which answers are sought
By those who take a look.
No action or deed,
Just the mind, completely freed;
To dance and to sing and to run.
Through this we may gather
Very much matter
But never a deed shall be done.
And life is no more
Than a fancy or thought
And nothing is lost or is won.
And on that far away shore,
Where time is no more,
And nothing is false or is true.
There I shall stand,
My spyglass in hand,
Waiting and waiting for you.
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