WE gazed far out upon the lonely main How often! dreaming of the land that lay Beyond it—England, Brittany, or Spain— Whither the ships passed silently away. But, oh, the change! My vigil I must keep Without her now along a different strand, That rims a vaster, more mysterious, deep, Beyond which lies—no man can say what land! Weeks, months, even year on year, may roll Away and leave me, where I sit alone, To watch, and wonder in my longing soul Whither the white sail of her life is gone. But when at last they call me to embark, And I put forth, and feel the cold wind stir, Be thou, O Christ, my pilot through the dark, And guide my vessel o'er this sea to her! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS LATE MAJESTY, CONCERNING..TRUE FORM OF ENGLISH POETRY by JOHN BEAUMONT MY GARDEN by CLARA MCKEE BEEDE THE DAY AFTER THE WAR by JAMES MADISON BELL THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (4) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT CHORIAMBICS: 1 by RUPERT BROOKE LADY WITH A CAREER by NORMA JEAN BUNTING ADDRESSED TO A LADY by ROBERT BURNS |