Meeting at Night by Robert Browning
Meeting at Night Robert Browning The grey sea and the long black land; and the yellow half-moon large and low; and the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i'the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; three fields to cross till a farm appears; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And the blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each!