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THE LADY OF THE PROW
The dash of waves, and the wild uproar
Of ocean lashed from shore to shore?
How canst thou bear this changeless rest,
Thou who hast made the world thy quest?
Of ocean lashed from shore to shore?
How canst thou bear this changeless rest,
Thou who hast made the world thy quest?
O Lady of the stranded ship,
Once more our lingering oars we dip
In the clear blue that round thee lies,
Fanned by the airs of Paradise!
Farewell! farewell! But oft when day
On our far hill-tops dies away,
And night's cool winds the pine-trees bow,
Our eyes will see thee, even as now,
Waiting—a spirit pale and calm—
To hear the great sea's evening psalm!
Once more our lingering oars we dip
In the clear blue that round thee lies,
Fanned by the airs of Paradise!
Farewell! farewell! But oft when day
On our far hill-tops dies away,
And night's cool winds the pine-trees bow,
Our eyes will see thee, even as now,
Waiting—a spirit pale and calm—
To hear the great sea's evening psalm!
