I fly o’er the driftweed past Mozambique Channel,
And Aden, and Mocha, Bassora, Bombay;
The Tigris, Euphrates, the Indus, the Ganges,
So please me, I joyfully leave on my way.
You, later o’ertaken by darkness, then midnight,
Will slumber long after the stars shall have paled;
Adieu! to thee, passenger; eastward I travel;
The morning! the morning! I first shall have hailed.
I leave thee a blessing, with kind admonition:
Never fear thou the sundown, and dread not the night;