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.