Change it is,

And strange it is,

Sweet water green and salt,

To find at flood in time's bay

A tide that sunders love away;

And the heart at halt.

Then No is good,

And slow is good;

But another love to build.

And who that heard those waters pour

Built not upon the same deep shore,

When storm stilled?

Island love,

Or inland love,

The end of it is known.

Better the wind and weather hard,

Or sky soft, and night starred,

But danger met alone.

Strange it is

And change it is,

Drag or hurry the blood,

To live against time's ocean side

In a house of sand near ebb tide,

And expect the flood.