The wreckage of some name-forgotten barque, <br /> Half-buried by the dolorous shore; <br /> Whereto the living waters never more <br /> Their urgent billows pour; <br />But the salt spray can reach and cark -- <br /> <br />So lies my spirit, lonely and forlorn, <br /> On Being's strange and perilous strand. <br /> And rusted sword and fleshless hand <br /> Point from the smothering sand; <br />And anchor chainless and out-worn. <br /> <br />But o'er what Deep, unconquered and uncharted, <br /> And steering by what vanished star; <br /> And where my dim-imagined consorts are, <br /> Or hidden harbour far, <br />From whence my sails, unblessed, departed, <br /> <br />Can memory, nor still intuition teach. <br /> And so I watch with alien eyes <br /> This World's remote and unremembered skies; <br /> While around me weary rise <br />The babblings of a foreign speech.<br /><br />Sydney Wheeler Jephcott<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/home-woe/
