The deep sea mourns a passing current,
Profound indeed and cavernous in brine,
The waves that crash upon yon’ cliffs foment,
The god he grieves a passing such as thine;
A suffering as seems to know no end,
As where the far horizon meets the gloom,
And surly tempests rise above the blend,
When days decline and meet the frosty doom;
Yet look up high the clouds have cleared to show,
A light to guide the sailor’s ship and more,
A wind to cross the current’s flight and blow,
There manifold and bright the comfort of the shore,
Illumined by a thousand stars you find,
A calm harbour awaits to still your mind.

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