Pressed the glad bark toward thy native shore.
The loved ones clung around thee still, when all
Was darkness, tempest, terror, and dismay—
More closely clung around thee, when the pall
Of fate was falling o'er the mortal clay.
With them to live—with them, with them to die—
Sublime of human love intense and fine!
Was thy last prayer unto the Deity,
And it was granted thee by love divine.
In the same billow—in the same dark grave—