The night was very silent, and the moon was going down, And the winds of dawn were chilling all the sea. The full tide turned in silver o'er the ridge's length of brown, When a little muffled figure left the dim-seen, sleeping town By the white road that leadeth to the sea. The night was very silent, and the tide was falling fast, And the dawn was breaking dimly o'er the sea; The early boats like shadows with their lanterns flitted past, And the little muffled figure by the sand-hills stayed at last, Where the waste land opens on the sea. The night is well-nigh ended, and the moon has gone to rest And the winds of dawn are lashing all the sea. But the weariness is over and the doubt is all confessed, And hope is re-arisen and the wrong is all redressed, But the little muffled figure lays her head upon his breast Who has waited for her coming by the sea. The night is passed and done with, and the day is cold and white As the loosed winds riot o'er the sea, But the woe is passed and done with as a shadow of the night, And the little muffled figure flitteth, singing, out of sight To the fishing-town that faces on the sea.