VII
Gray Fog
 

A fog drifts in, the heavy laden
  Cold white ghost of the sea --
One by one the hills go out,
  The road and the pepper-tree.

I watch the fog float in at the window
  With the whole world gone blind,
Everything, even my longing, drowses,
  Even the thoughts in my mind.

I put my head on my hands before me,
  There is nothing left to be done or said,
There is nothing to hope for, I am tired,
  And heavy as the dead.