Where I can hear a solemn booming gun
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nd catch the gleaming of a random light, That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing. My tearful eyes my soul’s deep hurt are glassing;For I would hail and check that ship of ships.I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing. O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing, O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!
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