All my heart weeps for 
Is a cottage left 
By some one before 
Time into space crept, 
A small cottage left 
Near a silent shor
There the constant waves 
Murmur like vain res 
There the soft raves 
Like a soul possessed 
Of rest that not save
There the shore‑winds breathe 
Possibilities 
Of less cares than wreathe 
Round our lives their cries 
From up and beneat
Where that cottage is 
Rests with wishing i 
Is therewhere is bliss? 
No, nor does bliss fit 
Into that strange plac
Why desire it then? 
Ah, it's different 
From the homes of me 
There perhaps are blent 
Dreams and what we ke
There at least alone,
Alone by the sea,
We shall cease to moa
To moan need not be
Where we are alon
These are word Let sleep 
Close our eyes to find 
That small cottage, deep 
In Farnes We are blind 
And life is to wee