Till there lifted a wondrous Haven
Across the swinging main,
As ne’er before had lifted--
Nor e’er might lift again.
Clear it shone, each gleaming stone,
Mystic, white and far,
Castle and tree above the sea
Where the lilac combers are.
And over all there came a call,
As a Siren’s soft refrain--
Nor ever a helm to guide her,
The Good Ship turned again.
Swift o’er the back-set breakers
She plunged against the wind,
And never a look to left or right,
And never a thought behind:
Swinging, swaying, singing,
With all her canvas spread,
And bending spars and laughter
She fast and faster sped.
A little space--a little space--
A little nearer, then--
The Haven sank from the sunset sea,
And the sea was a waste again.