While The Billy BoilsSearchDay of ending for beginnings!Ocean hath another innings,Ocean hath another score;And the surges sing his winnings,And the surges shout his winnings,And the surges shriek his winnings,All along the sullen shore.
Sing another dirge in wailing,For another vessel sailingWith the shadow-ships at sea;Shadow-ships for ever sinking—Shadow-ships whose pumps are clinking,And whose thirsty holds are drinkingPledges to Eternity.
Pray for souls of ghastly, soddenCorpses, floating round untroddenCliffs, where nought but sea-drift strays;Souls of dead men, in whose facesOf humanity no trace is—Not a mark to show their races—Floating round for days and days.
Ocean's salty tongues are lickingRound the faces of the drowned,And a cruel blade seems stickingThrough my heart and turning round.
Heaven! shall HIS ghastly, soddenCorpse float round for days and days?Shall it dash 'neath cliffs untrodden,Rocks where nought but sea-drift strays?
God in heaven! hide the floating,Falling, rising, face from me;God in heaven! stay the gloating,Mocking singing of the sea!