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I WHITE sail upon the ocean verge, | |
| Just crimsoned by the setting sun, | |
| Thou hast thy port beyond the surge, | |
| Thy happy homeward course to run, | |
| And wingëd hope, with heart of fire, | 5 |
| To gain the bliss of thy desire. | |
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| I watch thee till the sombre sky | |
| Has darkly veiled the lucent plain; | |
| My thoughts, like homeless spirits, fly | |
| Behind thee oer the glimmering main; | 10 |
| Thy prow will kiss a golden strand, | |
| But they can never come to land. | |
| |
| And if they could, the fanes are black | |
| Where once I bent the reverent knee; | |
| No shrine would send an answer back, | 15 |
| No sacred altar blaze for me, | |
| No holy bell, with silver toll, | |
| Declare the ransom of my soul. | |
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| T is equal darkness, here or there; | |
| For nothing that this world can give | 20 |
| Could now the ravaged past repair, | |
| Or win the precious dead to live! | |
| Lifes crumbling ashes quench its flame, | |
| And every place is now the same. | |
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II Thou idol of my constant heart, | 25 |
| Thou child of perfect love and light, | |
| That sudden from my side didst part, | |
| And vanish in the sea of night, | |
| Through whatsoever tempests blow | |
| My weary soul with thine would go. | 30 |
| |
| Say, if thy spirit yet have speech, | |
| What port lies hid within the pall, | |
| What shore deaths gloomy billows reach, | |
| Or if they reach no shore at all! | |
| One wordone little wordto tell | 35 |
| That thou art safe and all is well! | |
| |
| The anchors of my earthly fate, | |
| As they were cast so must they cling; | |
| And naught is now to do but wait | |
| The sweet release that time will bring, | 40 |
| When all these mortal moorings break, | |
| For one last voyage I must make. | |
| |
| Say that across the shuddering dark | |
| And whisper that the hour is near | |
| Thy hand will guide my shattered bark | 45 |
| Till mercys radiant coasts appear, | |
| Where I shall clasp thee to my breast, | |
| And know once more the name of rest. | |
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