Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
The Building of the Ship.
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,—
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,—are all with thee!
The Building of the Ship.
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rustling in the dark.
The Fire of Drift-wood.