ON THE PACIFIC

A storm broods far on the foam of the deep;

The moon-path gleams before.

A day and a night, a night and a day,

And the way, love, will be o'er.

Six thousand wandering miles we have come

And never a sail have seen.

The sky above and the sea below

And the drifting clouds between.

Yet in our hearts unheaving hope

And light and joy have slept.

Nor ever lonely has seemed the wave

Tho’ heaving wild it leapt.

For there is talismanic might

Within our vows of love

To breathe us over all seas of life —

On to that Port, above,

Where the great Captain of all ships

Shall anchor them or send

Them forth on a vaster Voyage, yea,

On one that shall not end.

And upon that we two, I think,

Together still shall sail.

Oh, may it be, my own, or may

We perish in death's gale!