Ah, way-worn mortals turn to thee to worship and abide;
The white winged boats are drawn to thee on every swelling tide;
For thru thy whole long journey it’s always give and give—
What a multitude of creatures thou dost make to live!
At last thyself thou givest wholly to out-spreading bay;
It beareth thee to shining sea—how wonderful thy way!
With parting kiss to earth, thou risest to thirsty sun,
Who praiseth thee and hasteth thee—another race to run.