HE ship is waiting; the impatient sails, Eager to wing their flight across the brine, With throbbing bosoms woo the enamored gales: I go;—and, going, take your hand in mine, And say, "Believe in me!"
I know how widely far and marvellous lands And heaving seas will stretch between us twain; I know that years may pass before our hands, Now closely clasping, shall be clasped again,— Yet still believe in me.
I know that yonder ocean's mighty strife Awaits me, with its threatening dangers fraught; Yet, though the last breath of my struggling life Go out amid its billows, waver not, But still believe in me.
I know that glorious scenes will charm my eyes, And wastes of endless summer tempt my feet; Yet will my heart turn to these northern skies, And the snow-tempests and the rattling sleet,— Wherefore, believe in me.
And you will be transfigured in my sight By time and distance;—beautiihl as a star Toward which, with love and longing infinite, I stretch my fond arms vainly from afar. O love, believe in me!
Farewell! Now lay your hand upon my head, And let it leave a blessing where it lies: Speak not,—your eyes have left no word unsaid: It is enough. I will be true and wise,— Only, believe in in me!
HE ship is waiting; the impatient sails, 
HE ship is waiting; the impatient sails, 