  Across the scarce-awakened sea, With white sail flowing, And morning glowing, I come to thee—I come to thee. Past lonely beaches, And gleaming reaches, And long reefs foaming, Homing—homing— A-done with roaming, I come to thee. The moon is failing, A petal sailing Down in the west That bends o'er thee; And the stars are hiding, As we go gliding Back to the nest, Ah! back to thee. |
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