COME down, ye graybeard mariners, Unto the wasting shore! The morning winds are up, -- the gods Bid me to dream no more. Come, tell me whither I must sail, What peril there may be, Before I take my life in hand And venture out to sea! "We may not tell thee where to sail, Nor what the dangers are; Each sailor soundeth for himself, Each hath a separate star: Each sailor soundeth for himself, And on the awful sea What we have learned is ours alone; We may not tell it thee." Come back, O ghostly mariners, Ye who have gone before! I dread the dark, impetuous tides; I dread the farther shore. Tell me the secret of the waves; Say what my fate shall be, -- Quick! for the mighty winds are up, And will not wait for me. "Hail and farewell, O voyager! Thyself must read the waves; What we have learned of sun and storm Lies with us in our graves: What we have learned of sun and storm Is ours alone to know. The winds are blowing out to sea, Take up thy life and go!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EN TOUR; A SONG SEQUENCE: 2. TREASURE by ALBERTA BANCROFT VERSES TO -- --, ON THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THEIR MARRIAGE by BERNARD BARTON HARVEST by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SIR JOHN FRANKLIN by GEORGE HENRY BOKER A BAGATELLE by JAMES G. BURNETT THE APPLE-JELLY FISH-TREE by HILDA CONKLING OLNEY HYMNS: 60. A LIVING AND A DEAD FAITH by WILLIAM COWPER |