XII.
 

Like her I go; I cannot stay;
    I leave this mortal ark behind,
    A weight of nerves without a mind,
And leave the cliffs, and haste away

O’er ocean-mirrors rounded large,
    And reach the glow of southern skies,
    And see the sails at distance rise,
And linger weeping on the marge,

And saying; ‘Comes he thus, my friend?
    Is this the end of all my care?’
    And circle moaning in the air:
‘Is this the end? Is this the end?’

And forward dart again, and play
    About the prow, and back return
    To where the body sits, and learn
That I have been an hour away.