There were farm houses enough For food and shelter. But something urged us on. One knows the end and dreads the end Yet seeks the end. And you asked, "Is there a town near? Let's see a town." So we walked to Traverse City Through cut-over land and blasted Trunks and stumps of pine, And by the side of desolate hills. But when we got to Traverse City You were not content, nor was I. Something urged us on. Then you thought of Northport And of its Norse and German fishermen, And its quaint piers where they smoke fish. So we drove for thirty miles In a speeding automobile Over hills, around sudden curves, into warm coverts, Or hollows, sometimes at the edge of the Bay, Again on the hill, From where we could see Old Mission Amid blues and blacks, across a score of miles of the Bay, Waving like watered silk under the moon! And by meadows of clover newly cut, And by peach orchards and vineyards. But when we came to the little town Already asleep, though it was but eight o'clock, And only a few drowsy lamps With misty eyelids shone from a store or two, I said, "Do you see those twinkling lights? That's Northport Point, that's the Cedar Cabin-- Let's go to the Cedar Cabin." And so we crossed the Bay Amid great waves in a plunging launch, And a roaring breeze and a great moon, For now the moon was full. So here was the Cedar Cabin On a strip of land as wide as a house and lawn, And on one side Lake Michigan, And on one side the Bay. There were distances of color all around, And stars and darknesses of land and trees, And at the point the lighthouse. And over us the moon, And over the balcony of our room All of these, where we lay till I slept, Listening to the water of the lake, And the water of the Bay. And we saw the moon sink like a red bomb, And we saw the stars change As the sky wheeled.... Now this was the end of the earth, For this strip of land Ran out to a point no larger than one of the stumps We saw on the desolate hills. And moreover it seemed to dive under, Or waste away in a sudden depth of water. And around it was a swirl, To the north the bounding waves of the Lake, And to the south the Bay which seemed the Lake. But could we speak of it, even though I saw your eyes when you thought of it? A sigh of wind blew through the rustic temple When we saw this symbol together, And neither spoke. But that night, somewhere in the beginning of drowsiness, You said: "There is no further place to go, We must retrace." And I awoke in a torrent of light in the room, Hearing voices and steps on the walk: I looked for you, But you had arisen. Then I dressed and searched for you, But you were gone. Then I stood for long minutes Looking at a sail far out at sea And departed too. THE STAR