This island man In his lighthouse watches And lets the disturbed ear hear Strangers rowing over The silentest crest Of a sea at peace with itself-- Strangers in lifeboats gaily pursuing What I cannot pursue myself. O stranger rowing over Clasp you an arrow or glass? Never in all my handholding days When the trees shadowed my friends, Did I know myself the island I wore Skirted with simmering flesh Dense and deep as sand; Stars as silent as ministers Watched my days unclasp. O stranger rowing over Clasp you an arrow or glass? Now the stars like spectators Crowd my lulling shore, While I, alone in my clothes, Let days, birds and hours pass Quiet as a radar's sweep. Shall I go to the boats, Unloading my griefs, or keep Eye and ear in my lighthouse locked? O stranger rowing over Clasp you an arrow or glass?