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VOYAGING.
The dews descend and the brief day is done,
The skies flush rosily,
And all too early the unwlling sun
Goes down behind the sea.
The skies flush rosily,
And all too early the unwlling sun
Goes down behind the sea.
I gaze and gaze, and wonder childishly
If haply there may be,
Beyond that distant line of sky and sea,
One heart which longs for me;
If haply there may be,
Beyond that distant line of sky and sea,
One heart which longs for me;
If, far beyond these billows hoarse and rude,
Like needle to the pole,
There trembles toward my utter solitude
One unforgetting soul.
Like needle to the pole,
There trembles toward my utter solitude
One unforgetting soul.
The shadows fall, the wind grows chill and damp,
The still stars crown the night,
And from the binnacle the faithful lamp
Sends out its lonely light.
The still stars crown the night,
And from the binnacle the faithful lamp
Sends out its lonely light.
I gaze upon the hurrying waves, and mark
Their twinkling brilliancy,—
Like myriad lite-flies drowning in the dark
Of the insatiate sea.
Their twinkling brilliancy,—
Like myriad lite-flies drowning in the dark
Of the insatiate sea.
