Lethe

Nor skin nor hide nor fleece

       Shall cover you, 

Nor curtain of crimson nor fine

Shelter of cedar-wood be over you, 

       Nor the fir-tree

       Nor the pine.

Nor sight of whin nor gorse

       Nor river-yew, 

Nor fragrance of flowering bush,

Nor wailing of reed-bird to waken you, 

       Nor of linnet, 

       Nor of thrush.

Nor word nor touch nor sight

       Of lover, you

Shall long through the night but for this:

The roll of the full tide to cover you

       Without question, 

       Without kiss.