I saw one day on the horizon grey,
As with my load I wandered near the sea,
A whiff of smoke embrace the sleeping sun;
And just as their enchantment had begun,
A lonely cloud that roved above the lea
Passed by their couch and hid them from the day.
I saw this and my soul, long silent, cried:
“Would that I were the whiff of smoke
Now sleeping with the sun!
In beds of flame, how often was I tried—
How often have I ’neath the stroke
Of God or Satan shone!”