MY SHIP
She leaves in her wake a line of foam,
She is manned by a gallant crew;
At the head of her mast my ensign flies fast,
Sunflower in field of blue;
And strains of sweet music are wafted afar,
Oh, truly my fortune seems wondrous fair;
I turn me aside in contentment and pride
And the vision fades into air.
She is manned by a gallant crew;
At the head of her mast my ensign flies fast,
Sunflower in field of blue;
And strains of sweet music are wafted afar,
Oh, truly my fortune seems wondrous fair;
I turn me aside in contentment and pride
And the vision fades into air.
And now I hear voices with sad warning fraught
Of the treacherous deep and its mystery;
They tell me strange tales of furious gales
That brood on that summer sea.
They tell me of currents and quicksands and reefs,
Of an ocean the width of the whole world's span,
Of boats tempest-tost that were foundered and lost
And nevermore seen by man.
Of the treacherous deep and its mystery;
They tell me strange tales of furious gales
That brood on that summer sea.
They tell me of currents and quicksands and reefs,
Of an ocean the width of the whole world's span,
Of boats tempest-tost that were foundered and lost
And nevermore seen by man.
Then again I look into my magical glass,
(Oh, gift beyond price of the fairy named Hope),
I see by her sails my ship's weathered some gales,
But sound is each spar and each rope.
(Oh, gift beyond price of the fairy named Hope),
I see by her sails my ship's weathered some gales,
But sound is each spar and each rope.
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