“I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her
white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and
strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.
Then,
someone at my side says;
"There, she is gone!"
"Gone
where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar
as she was when she left my side
and she
is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her
destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in
her.
And just at the moment when
someone
at my side says, "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her
coming,
and other voices ready to take up the
glad
shout;
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying.”
This is the
only poem on the site that is not one of my own. I fell in love
with it instantly. Let it be my epitaph.
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