I fear the places I might never reach

In you—where stars encircle arctic capes

Or ice shelves stretch on, winklessly unthawed

Or oceans whirlpool round an invisible God.

But sweet, I sink into your balmy beach

And stretch where the wisteria tendril drapes

In dappled summer plats around Cape Cod;

I stroll its boardwalks by your side, unshod.

Between the stoic polar ends of earth

Abides this antidote to chilled extremes:

Say, will you stay, for what a season’s worth?

I throw my arms around your sunny beams!

So moor here; pause your journeys past the pale;

Greet your Calypso; let her stash your sail.


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