Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing,
I look far out into the pregnant night
Where I can hear a solemn booming gun
And catch the gleaming of a random light,
That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.
My tearful eyes, my soul's deep hurt are glassing;
For I would hail and check that ship of ships.
I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,
My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips
And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing
passing.
Oh Earth, oh Sky, oh Ocean, both surpassing,
Oh heart of mine, oh soul that dreads the dark!
Is there no hope for me? Is there no way
That I may sight and check that speeding bark,
Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing?
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