He wrought a woe he knew not of, He failed his fondest quest, Now sing a psalter, read a prayer May all souls find their rest. Amen. IN MICHIGAN You wrote: "Come over to Saugatuck And be with me on the warm sand, And under cool beeches and aromatic cedars." And just then no one could do a thing in the city For the lure of far places, and something that tugged At one's heart because of a June sky, And stretches of blue water, And a warm wind blowing from the south. What could I do but take a boat And go to meet you? And when to-day is not enough, But you must live to-morrow also; And when the present stands in the way Of something to come, And there is but one you would see, All the interval of waiting is a wall. And so it was I walked the landward deck With flapping coat and hat pulled down; And I sat on the leeward deck and looked At the streaming smoke of the funnels, And the far waste of rhythmical water, And at the gulls flying by our side. There was music on board and dancing, But I could not take part. For above all there was the bluest sky, And around us the urge of magical distances. And just because you were in the violins, And in everything, and were wholly the world Of sense and sight, It was too much. One could not live it And make it all his own-- It was too much. And I wondered where the rest could be going, Or what they thought of water and sky Without knowing you. But at four o'clock there was a rim, A circled edge of rainbow color Which suspired, widened and narrowed under your gaze: It was the phantasy of straining eyes, Or land--and it was land. It was distant trees. And then it was dunes, bluffs of yellow sand. We began to wonder how far it was-- Five miles, or ten miles-- Surely only five miles!-- But at last whatever it was we swung to the end. We rounded the lighthouse pier, Almost before we knew. We slowed our speed in a dizzy river of black, We drifted softly to dock.