  'TELL me, tell me, Unknown stranger, When shall I sight me That tall ship On whose flower-wreathed counter is gilded, Sleep?' 'Landsman, landsman, Lynx nor kestrel Ne'er shall descry from Ocean steep That midnight-stealing, high-pooped galliass, Sleep.' 'Promise me, Stranger, Though I mark not When cold night-tide's Shadows creep, Thou wilt keep unwavering watch for Sleep.' 'Myriad the lights are, Wayworn landsman, Rocking the dark through On the deep: She alone burns none to prove her Sleep.'
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