Chapter X

Then after, ere she spread her wafting wings, The ship,--and weighed her anchor to depart, We stole from her dark lee, like guilty things; And there was silence in my heart, And silence in the upper and the nether deep. O sleep! O sleep! Do not forget me. Sometimes come and sweep, Now I have nothing left, thy healing hand Over the lids that crave thy visits bland, Thou kind, thou comforting one: For I have seen his face, as I desired, And all my story is done. O, I am tired!

THE MIDDLE WATCH.