O moment of joy, of trust, of song for my soul, and for those who sleep, and for those who shall by and by wake!
Life,
Morning, and April—
Hitherward the gleam travels!
THE GRAY VICTORY
On the top of a great rock,
A rounded boulder with rust-colored stains,
Set high over the blue-green of the bay,
Braced strong with iron against the strong salt wind,
The old, gray figurehead is left.