A Seaside Drama

                  I.

A waste of sea,

     A stretch of sand;

Camille and me

     Walk hand in hand.

Our hearts entwined,

Our joy refined.

           II.

The summer flies,

     And love takes leave;

Camille, wet eyes,

     Laughs in her sleeve;

Alone, forlorn,

I bear the thorn.

           III.

‘Tis then my mind

     Reverts to her,

I left behind,

     In town’s mad whir.

And then I know,

‘Twere “better so”.

June 28, ‘94

Pub. in Boston Courier,

August 5, 1894