O my soul that fliest over never-ending seas
That are so still their deeps lie dark beneath the sun,
Untroubled by any foam, so that the ship-boy sees
All the world's water, and thinks his voyage never done:
Some day thou wilt stay thy wings and stoop to land
Where the sea's edge lies sharp like a bright sword,
And hardly break the waves, and sweet is the sand
Where the keel runs home and ships are gently shored.
There sit the solemn seamen, with rings in their brown ears,
Who are grave when they laugh and are not ashamed to weep;