I SUMMER is dying, is dying, And cold is the breath of fall. The waves are beginning to labor And beat on the ocean-wall. The leaves are blown from the branches. The children have frost-reddened lips. The birds are departing. Keen strain at their cables The storm-hearted ships. I yield to a mighty power. I am drawn by a hidden hand. And the sea -- the sea is calling In tones I cannot withstand. I am the bird that passes, The ship that the tempests blow. My song is a song of parting. I came, and I go. II The storm leads away from harbor. Surf beats the ocean-wall. I came from the south in summer And sail in the fall. Prayers cannot hope to hold me. I hack through the holiest ties -- Abandon the woman I worship, The land of my boyhood skies. I turn from the ship a moment To speak the farewells I owe. But my song is a song of parting. I came, and I go. III I envy all that can scorn thee, Thou wave-driving wind of the deep! -- The sun that glitters in glory, And the lands that lie asleep; The peaks in their crystal beauty, Silent and heaven-high; And the sphinx that keeps its secret While the myriad years go by. IV I am borne by breeze and billow From land on to land. I ask not the people for praises Or honoring hand. I long to be blest with friendship, But am everywhere ever alone, Ever a man without country, A vagrant in every zone. But my song is a song of parting. Surf beats the ocean-wall. I came from the south in summer And sail in the fall. |