You of love and anger
That truth denied
In simple fact
Of presumptuous simple tides
What flows as ebb and such devout
Where angels tread on flowery grave
As friend dies holding ebb’s soft wave
Shall I take the truth from you
That friendship glide, unequal tide
For if I might decline this trust
What simple friend to us divide
Shall we grow the grain of love?
As friend in sweet and soft abide
Or shall they come to quicken us
Against the hard and angry tide?