Gold-brown upon the sated flood
 The rock-vine clusters lift and sway:
 Vast wings above the lambent waters
   brood
 Of sullen day.

A waste of waters ruthlessly
 Sways and uplifts its weedy mane,
 Where brooding day stares down
   upon the sea
 In dull disdain.

Uplift and sway, O golden vine,
 Thy clustered fruits to love's full
   flood,
 Lambent and vast and ruthless as is
   thine
 Incertitude.