  On seas where every pilot fails A thousand thousand ships to-day Ride with a moaning in their sails, Through winds grey and waters grey. They are the ships of grief. They go As fleets are derelict and driven, Estranged from every port they know, Scarce asking fortitude of heaven. No, do not hail them. Let them ride Lonely as they would lonely be ... There is an hour will prove the tide, There is a sun will strike the sea. |
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