Lord of the Sea, we sun-filled creatures raise
Our hands among the clamorous weeds,--we too.
Lord of the Sun, and of the upper blue,
Of all To-morrow, and all yesterdays,
...
Yes, Nightingale, through all the summer-time
We followed on, from moon to golden moon;
From where Salerno day-dreams in the noon,
And the far rose of Pæstum once did climb. ...
How many schemes may die
In one short Afternoon
Entirely unknown
To those they most concern-
The man that was not lost
Because by accident
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