The shore hath blent with the distant skies, <br />O'er the bend of the crested seas, <br />And the leaning ship in her pathway flies, <br />On the sweep of the freshened breeze. <br /> <br />Swift be its flight! for a dying guest <br />It bears across the billow, <br />And she fondly sighs in her native West <br />To find a peaceful pillow. <br /> <br />There, o'er the tide, her kindred sleep, <br />And she would sleep beside them-- <br />It may not be! for the sea is deep, <br />And the waves--the waves divide them! <br /> <br />It may not be! for the flush is flown, <br />That lighted her lily cheek-- <br />'Twas the passing beam, ere the sun goes down.-- <br />Life's last and loveliest streak. <br /> <br />'Tis gone, and a dew is o'er her now-- <br />The dew of the mornless eve-- <br />No morrow will shine on that pallid brow, <br />For the spirit hath ta'en its leave. <br /> <br />* * * * * <br /> <br />The ship heaves to, and the funeral rite, <br />O'er the lovely form is said, <br />And the rough man's cheek with tears is bright, <br />As he lowers the gentle dead. <br /> <br />The corse sinks down, alone--alone, <br />To its dark and dreary grave, <br />And the soul on a lightened wing hath flown, <br />To the world beyond the wave. <br /> <br />* * * * * <br /> <br />'Tis a fearful thing in the sea to sleep <br />Alone in a silent bed-- <br />'Tis a fearful thing on the shoreless deep <br />Of the spirit-world to tread!<br /><br />Samuel Griswold Goodrich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-burial-at-sea/
