In the Offing

A ghostly ship sails on a ghostly sea,
And bears afar an anxious company,
Whose dreams, whose hopes, whose constant longings yearn
For some fair port from which no ships return—
Some quiet haven, undisturbed by strife
Of vexing surges from our storm-vext life—
Wind-driven surges from our wind-swept life.

My longing heart sails with them as they go,
Anxious as they, and heavy with their woe;
Where is the peaceful shore we long to find—
The waves are stormy, and the path is blind—
The distant sky shuts in the distant sea—
What star of promise holds the dark for me?
What star of promise holds the dark for thee?