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to see,


With happier mood, and feelings born Oft while in longing here I lie,

5 anew,

That wasting ever still endures; Our boyhood’s bygone fancies we'll review, My soul out from me seems to fly, Talk o'er old talks, play as we used to And half-way, somewhere, meet with play,


yours. And meet again, on many a future day.

Somewhere — but where I cannot guess: Some day, which oft our hearts shall yearn Beyond, may be, the bound of space,

The liberated spirits press In some far year, though distant yet to be, And meet, bless heaven, and embrace. Shall we indeed, - ye winds and waters, say! —

It seems not either here nor there, Meet yet again, upon some future day? 20

Somewhere between us up above,

A region of a clearer air,
Where lies the land to which the ship

The dwelling of a purer love.
would go?
Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know.
And where the land she travels from?

The mighty ocean rolls and raves,

To part us with its angry waves;
Far, far behind, is all that they can say.

But arch on arch from shore to shore,

In a vast fabric reaching o'er, On sunny noons upon the deck's smooth face,

With careful labors daily wrought Linked arm in arm, how pleasant here to By steady hope and tender thought, pace;

The wide and weltering waste above — Or, o'er the stern reclining, watch below Our hearts have bridged it with their love. The foaming wake far widening as we go.

Their fond anticipations fly On stormy nights' when wild north To rear the growing structure high; westers rave,

Dear memories upon either side How proud a thing to fight with wind and Combine to make it large and wide.

wave! The dripping sailor on the reeling mast

There, happy fancies, day by day, Exults to bear, and scorns to wish it past.

New courses sedulously lay;

There soft solicitudes, sweet fears, Where lies the land to which the ship And doubts accumulate, and tears.

would go? Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know. And where the land she travels from?

While the pure purpose of the soul,

To form of many parts a whole,

To make them strong and hold them true Far, far behind, is all that they can say.

From end to end, is carried through.







Am I with you, or you with me?

Or in some blessed place above, Where neither lands divide nor sea,

Are we united in our love?

Then when the waters war between,
Upon the masonry unseen,
Secure and swift, from shore to shore,
The silent football travelling o'er,

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Say not the struggle nought availeth,

The labor and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; 5

It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the Aiers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

Cowardly art thou and timid? they rise to

provoke thee against them; Hast thou courage? enough, see them

exulting to yield. Yea, the rough rock, the dull earth, the

wild sea's furying waters (Violent say'st thou and hard, mighty

thou think'st to destroy), All with ineffable longing are waiting their

invader, All, with one varying voice, call to him,

Come and subdue; Still for their conqueror call, and, but for

the joy of being conquered (Rapture they will not forego), dare to

resist and rebel; Still, when resisting and raging, in soft

undervoice say unto him, Fear not, retire not, O man; hope ever

more and believe. Go from the east to the west, as the sun

and the stars dizect thee, Go with the girdle of man, go and en

compass the earth. Not for the gain of the gold; for the get

ting, the hoarding, the having, But for the joy of the deed; but for the

Duty to do. Go with the spiritual life, the higher

volition and action, With the great girdle of God, go and

encompass the earth. Go; say not in thy heart, And what then

were it accomplished, Were the wild impulse allayed, what

were the use or the good! Go, when the instinct is stilled, and when

the deed is accomplished, What thou hast done and shalt do, shall

be declared to thee then. Go with the sun and the stars, and yet

evermore in thy spirit Say to thyself: It is good: yet is there

better than it. This that I see is not all, and this that I do

is but little; Nevertheless it is good, though there is

better than it.


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The leaves that burst, the suns that shine,

Had, not the less, their certain date:And thou, O human heart of mine,

Be still, refrain thyself, and wait.


It fortifies

That, though I perish, Truth is so:
That, howsoe'er I stray and range,
Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change.
I steadier step when I recall

5 That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.

soul to.







(1869) Whate'er you dream, with doubt possessed, Keep, keep it snug within your breast, And lay you down and take your rest; Forget in sleep the doubt and pain, And when you wake, to work again. 5 The wind it blows, the vessel goes, And where and whither, no one knows. 'Twill all be well: no need of care; Though how it will, and when, and where, We cannot see, and can't declare. In spite of dreams, in spite of thought, 'Tis not in vain, and not for nought, The wind it blows, the ship is goes, Though where and whither, no one knows.


Come, dear children, let us away;
Down and away below!
Now my brothers call from the bay,
Now the great winds shoreward blow,
Now the salt tides seaward fow;
Now the wild white horses play,
Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.
Children dear, let us away!
This way, this way!
Call her once before you go
Call once yet!
In a voice that she will know:
"Margaret! Margaret!"
Children's voices should be dear
(Call once more) to a mother's ear;
Children's voices, wild with pain -
Surely she will come again!
Call her once and come away;
This way, this way!
“Mother dear, we cannot stay!
The wild white horses foam and fret."
Margaret! Margaret!




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Come, dear children, come away down;
Call no more!
One last look at the white-walled town, 25
And the little gray church on the windy

Then come down!
She will not come though you call all day;
Come away, come away!


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Children dear, was it yesterday
We heard the sweet bells over the bay?
In the caverns where we lay,
Through the surf and through the swell,



The far-off sound of a silver bell?
Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,
Where the winds are all asleep;
Where the spent lights quiver and gleam,
Where the salt weed sways in the stream,
Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,
Feed in the of their pasture-

Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,
Dry their mail and bask in the brine;
Where great whales come sailing by,
Sail and sail, with unshut eye,
Round the world for ever and aye?
When did music come this way?
Children dear, was it yesterday?




Come!” I said: and we rose through the

surf in the bay. We went up the beach, by the sandy

down Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white

walled town; Through the narrow paved streets, where

all was still, To the little gray church on the windy

hill. From the church came a murmur of folk

at their prayers, But we stood without in the cold blowing

airs. We climbed on the graves, on the stones

worn with rains, And we gazed up the aisle through the

small leaded panes. She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: “Margaret, hist! come quick, we

here! Dear heart,” I said, we are long alone; The sea grows stormy, the little ones

moan.” But, ah, she gave me never a look, For her eyes were sealed to the holy book! Loud prays the priest; shut stands the

door. Come away, children, call no more! Come away, come down, call no more!





Children dear, was it yesterday
(Call yet once) that she went away?
Once she sate with you and me,
On a red gold throne in the heart of the

sea, And the youngest sate on her knee. She combed its bright hair, and she

tended it well, When down swung the sound of a far-off

bell. She sighed, she looked up through the clear green sea;

55 She said: “I must go, for my


pray In the little gray church on the shore to

day. 'Twill be Easter-time in the world — ah

me! And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here

with thee." I said: “Go up, dear heart, through the

waves; Say thy prayer, and come back to the

kind sea-caves!” She smiled, she went up through the surf

in the bay. Children dear, was it yesterday?




Down, down, down! Down to the depths of the sea! She sits at her wheel in the humming

town, Singing most joyfully. Hark what she sings: “O joy, O joy, For the humming street, and the child

with its toy! For the priest and the bell, and the holy

well; For the wheel where I spun, And the blessed light of the sun!” And so she sings her fill, Singing most joyfully, Till the spindle drops from her hand, And the whizzing wheel stands still. She steals to the window, and looks at


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