Dark is the morning with mist; in the narrow mouth of the harbor <br />Motionless lies the sea, under its curtain of cloud; <br />Dreamily glimmer the sails of ships on the distant horizon, <br />Like to the towers of a town, built on the verge of the sea. <br /> <br />Slowly and stately and still, they sail forth into the ocean; <br />With them sail my thoughts over the limitless deep, <br />Farther and farther away, borne on by unsatisfied longings, <br />Unto Hesperian isles, unto Ausonian shores. <br /> <br />Now they have vanished away, have disappeared in the ocean; <br />Sunk are the towers of the town into the depths of the sea! <br />All have vanished but those that, moored in the neighboring <br />roadstead, <br />Sailless at anchor ride, looming so large in the mist. <br /> <br />Vanished, too, are the thoughts, the dim, unsatisfied longings; <br />Sunk are the turrets of cloud into the ocean of dreams; <br />While in a haven of rest my heart is riding at anchor, <br />Held by the chains of love, held by the anchors of trust!<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ultima-thule-elegiac/
