Sonnet 33

I shall go back again to the bleak shore

And build a little shanty on the sand,

In such a way that the extremest band

Of brittle seaweed shall escape my door

But by a yard or two; and nevermore

Shall I return to take you by the hand;

I shall be gone to what I understand,

And happier than I ever was before.

The love that stood a moment in your eyes,

The words that lay a moment on your tongue,

Are one with all that in a moment dies,

A little under-said and over-sung.

But I shall find the sullen rocks and skies

Unchanged from what they were when I was young.