Page:Poems Allen.djvu/147

Or it may be, the vessels long
  —For almost human they seem to me—
For the leaping waves, and the storm-wind strong?,
  And the fetterless freedom out at sea,
          Out at sea,
  And feel their rest a captivity.

So as a soul from a higher sphere,
  Fettered down to this earthly clay,
Strives at the chains which bind it here,
  Tossing and struggling, day by day,
          Day by day,
  Longing to break them and flee away,

Strive the ships, in their restlessness,
  Whether the tide be high or low;—
And why these tear-drops, I cannot guess,
  As down in the harbor, to and fro,
          To and fro,
  Backward and forward the vessels go.