“’I say to thee, though free from care,
  A lonely lot, an aimless life,
The crowning comfort is not there—­
        Son, take a wife.’

“‘Father beloved,’ the son replied,
  And failed to gather to his breast,
With arms in darkness searching wide,
        The formless guest.

“’I am but free, as sorrow is,
  To dry her tears, to laugh, to talk;
And free, as sick men are, I wis
        To rise and walk.

“’And free, as poor men are, to buy
  If they have nought wherewith to pay;
Nor hope, the debt before they die,
        To wipe away.

“’What ’vails it there are wives to win,
  And faithful hearts for those to yearn,
Who find not aught thereto akin
        To make return?

“’Shall he take much who little gives,
  And dwells in spirit far away,
When she that in his presence lives
        Doth never stray,

“But waking, guideth as beseems
  The happy house in order trim,
And tends her babes; and sleeping, dreams
      Of them and him?

“‘O base, O cold,’”—­while thus he spake
  The dream broke off, the vision fled;
He carried on his speech awake
        And sighing said—­

“’I had—­ah happy man!—­I had
  A precious jewel in my breast,
And while I kept it I was glad
        At work, at rest!

“’Call it a heart, and call it strong
  As upward stroke of eagle’s wing;
Then call it weak, you shall not wrong
        The beating thing.

“’In tangles of the jungle reed,
  Whose heats are lit with tiger eyes,
In shipwreck drifting with the weed
        ’Neath rainy skies,

“’Still youthful manhood, fresh and keen,
  At danger gazed with awed delight
As if sea would not drown, I ween,
        Nor serpent bite.

“’I had—­ah happy! but ’tis gone,
  The priceless jewel; one came by,
And saw and stood awhile to con
        With curious eye,

“’And wished for it, and faintly smiled
  From under lashes black as doom,
With subtle sweetness, tender, mild,
        That did illume

“’The perfect face, and shed on it
  A charm, half feeling, half surprise,
And brim with dreams the exquisite
        Brown blessed eyes.

“’Was it for this, no more but this,
  I took and laid it in her hand,
By dimples ruled, to hint submiss,
        By frown unmanned?

“’It was for this—­and O farewell
  The fearless foot, the present mind,
And steady will to breast the swell
        And face the wind!

“’I gave the jewel from my breast,
  She played with it a little while
As I sailed down into the west,
        Fed by her smile;

“’Then weary of it—­far from land,
  With sigh as deep as destiny,
She let it drop from her fair hand
        Into the sea,

“’And watched it sink; and I—­and I,—­
  What shall I do, for all is vain? 
No wave will bring, no gold will buy,
        No toil attain;