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SORROW'S KINSHIP. |
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The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||
SORROW'S KINSHIP.
Day after day — as wave on wave — goes by,
And still I sail the old familiar seas,
Like him of old who never might find ease,
Or rest, 'twixt barren sea and barren sky,
Till she were come whose love would not deny
Her very life to compass his release:—
O Captain of pale spectral companies,
Kinship of sorrow knits us, thou and I!
And still I sail the old familiar seas,
Like him of old who never might find ease,
Or rest, 'twixt barren sea and barren sky,
Till she were come whose love would not deny
Her very life to compass his release:—
O Captain of pale spectral companies,
Kinship of sorrow knits us, thou and I!
On shore — in every seven years — three days
Thou hadst to seek her who might not be found;
As still I find Her not, whose love had crowned
Even Love himself anew. Sail on, sad ghost;
But I, past reefs and straits and roaring bays,
Shall anchor, some day, on a still, dark coast.
Thou hadst to seek her who might not be found;
As still I find Her not, whose love had crowned
Even Love himself anew. Sail on, sad ghost;
But I, past reefs and straits and roaring bays,
Shall anchor, some day, on a still, dark coast.
The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | ||