Why did you bring me here? 
The sand is white with snow, 
Over the wooden domes 
The winter sea-winds blow-- 
There is no shelter near, 
Come, let us go.

With foam of icy lace 
The sea creeps up the sand, 
The wind is like a hand 
That strikes us in the face. 
Doors that June set a-swing 
Are bolted long ago; 
We try them uselessly-- 
Alas there cannot be 
For us a second spring; 
Come, let us go.