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 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
O YE WHO SAILED WITH ME.
O ye who sailed with me the evening seas,
Take to your boats now and depart, I say.
Ye know what winds and rains laid waste my day,
Yet how with even-song there came surcease;
But it is ended here, my term of peace:
The sun has set; once more the sky turns gray,
And giant waves in menacing array
Surge on, and thunder, while the winds increase.
Take to your boats now and depart, I say.
Ye know what winds and rains laid waste my day,
Yet how with even-song there came surcease;
But it is ended here, my term of peace:
The sun has set; once more the sky turns gray,
And giant waves in menacing array
Surge on, and thunder, while the winds increase.
I must away, and sail to breast their might;
I — who once dallied by the fair sea-side
Dreaming of stars, and gentleness of night—
Must go, now, with the inexorable tide,
Straight on to shipwreck, past each beacon-light,
Till Death, his prey, from all men's sight shall hide.
I — who once dallied by the fair sea-side
Dreaming of stars, and gentleness of night—
Must go, now, with the inexorable tide,
Straight on to shipwreck, past each beacon-light,
Till Death, his prey, from all men's sight shall hide.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |