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The ship races on: its vast regions are flooded with billows of light;
Till, wearied with even the good cheer, some sojourners welcome the night,
While others still cling to their revels, and plunging in pleasure more deep,
Look forward as oft in the home life, for small hours to soothe them asleep.
But many a grave man has handed to darkness the care of his cares,
And many a child has seen Heaven through clear unstained windows of prayers,
And many a woman o'er-wearied, the sojourn of Morpheus has blessed,
So she to the dictums of fashion can fling some defiance, and rest;

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But all look ahead to one morning when, nearing the spires and the domes,
They leave with new feelings of freedom, this grand floating home, for their homes.