Now the land is gone, and no sights are near,
But calm blue skies above,
And ocean below him as bright and clear,
Yet green as a summer grove.
Mid the emerald depths he strives to snare
The swift free fish of the sea;
And when he has won of the spoils a share
He homeward plies his way.
Now the sun sinks down with a fierce red glare,
And dark clouds crowd his path,