For
I in spirit saw thee move
Thro’ circles of the bounding sky,
Week after week: the days go by:
Come
quick, thou bringest all I love.
Henceforth,
wherever thou may’st roam,
My blessing, like a line of light,
Is on the waters day and night,
And
like a beacon guards thee home.
So
may whatever tempest mars
Mid-ocean, spare thee, sacred bark;
And balmy drops in summer dark
Slide
from the bosom of the stars.
So
kind an office hath been done,
Such precious relics brought by thee;
The dust of him I shall not see
Till
all my widow’d race be run.