| |
| OUT in the dark it throbs and glows— | |
| The wide, wild sea, that no man knows! | |
| The wind is chill, the surge is white, | |
| And I must sail that sea to-night. | |
| |
| You shall not sail! The breakers roar | 5 |
| On many a mile of iron shore, | |
| The waves are livid in their wrath, | |
| And no man knows the ocean path. | |
| |
| I must not bide for wind or wave; | |
| I must not heed, though tempest rave; | 10 |
| My course is set, my hour is known, | |
| And I must front the dark, alone. | |
| |
| Your eyes are wild, your face is pale,— | |
| This is no night for ships to sail! | |
| The hungry wind is moaning low, | 15 |
| The storm is up—you shall not go! | |
| |
| ’T is not the moaning wind you hear— | |
| It is a sound more dread and drear, | |
| A voice that calls across the tide, | |
| A voice that will not be denied. | 20 |
| |
| Your words are faint, your brow is cold, | |
| Your looks grow sudden gray and old, | |
| The lights burn dim, the casements shake,— | |
| Ah, stay a little, for my sake! | |
| |
| Too late! Too late! The vow you said | 25 |
| This many a year is cold and dead, | |
| And through that darkness, grim and black, | |
| I shall but follow on its track. | |
| |
| Remember all fair things and good | |
| That e’er were dreamed or understood, | 30 |
| For they shall all the Past requite, | |
| So you but shun the sea to-night! | |
| |
| No more of dreams! Nor let there be | |
| One tender thought of them or me,— | |
| For on the way that I must wend | 35 |
| I dread no harm and need no friend! | |
| |
| The golden shafts of sunset fall | |
| Athwart the gray cathedral wall, | |
| While o’er its tombs of old renown | |
| The rose-leaves softly flutter down. | 40 |
| |
| No thought of holy things can save | |
| One relic now from Memory’s grave, | |
| And, be it sun or moon or star, | |
| The light that falls must follow far! | |
| |
| I mind the ruined turrets bold, | 45 |
| The ivy, flushed with sunset gold, | |
| The dew-drenched roses, in their sleep, | |
| That seemed to smile, and yet to weep. | |
| |
| There ’ll be nor smile nor tear again; | |
| There ’ll be the end of every pain; | 50 |
| There ’ll be no parting to deplore, | |
| Nor love nor sorrow any more. | |
| |
| I see the sacred river’s flow, | |
| The barge in twilight drifting slow, | |
| While o’er the daisied meadow swells | 55 |
| The music of the vesper bells. | |
| |
| It is my knell—so far away! | |
| The night wears on—I must not stay! | |
| My canvas strains before the gale— | |
| My cables part, and I must sail! | 60 |
| |
| Loud roars the sea! The dark has come: | |
| He does not move—his lips are dumb.— | |
| Ah, God receive, on shores of light, | |
| The shattered ship that sails to-night! | |
| |
