Wherefore, wherefore, dost thou stand
By the sea-washed shore so lonely?
Morn’s first crimson shadows only
Saw a vessel leave the strand!
But its canvas glancing white,
Long hath left thy straining sight—
Sunset dies o’er sea and land:
Yet across the waste of waters,
Saddest of Earth’s quivering daughters
Stretcheth still each small white hand!