Poems (Jackson)/Coming across
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VERY sail is full set, and the sky
And the sea blaze with light,
And the moon mid her virgins glides on
As St. Ursula might;
And the throb of the pulse never stops,
In the heart of the ship,
As her measures of water and fire
She drinks down at a sip.
Yet I never can think, as I lie,
And so wearily toss,
That by saint, or by star, or by ship,
I am coming across;
COMING ACROSS.
VERY sail is full set, and the skyAnd the sea blaze with light,
And the moon mid her virgins glides on
As St. Ursula might;
And the throb of the pulse never stops,
In the heart of the ship,
As her measures of water and fire
She drinks down at a sip.
Yet I never can think, as I lie,
And so wearily toss,
That by saint, or by star, or by ship,
I am coming across;
But by light which I know in dear eyes
That are bent on the sea,
And the touch I remember of hands
That are waiting for me.
By the light of the eyes I could come,
If the stars should all fail;
And I think, if the ship should go down,
That the hands would prevail.
Ah! my darlings, you never will know
How I pined in the loss
Of you all, and how breathless and glad
I am coming across.
That are bent on the sea,
And the touch I remember of hands
That are waiting for me.
By the light of the eyes I could come,
If the stars should all fail;
And I think, if the ship should go down,
That the hands would prevail.
Ah! my darlings, you never will know
How I pined in the loss
Of you all, and how breathless and glad
I am coming across.
Steamship Russia, January 22, 1870,