The Missing Ship.

A poem by George Pope Morris

She left the port in gallant style,
With sails and streamers full and free!
I watched her course for many a mile
Far out upon the distant sea!
At dusk she lessened to a speck,
And then I could not trace her more!
Sad hearts were beating on her deck,
Sad hearts were beating on the shore.

Two of the outward bound I knew,
One beautiful, the other brave--
The master worthy, and the crew
Born to contend with wind and wave:
For travel some, and some for gain,
And some for health had gone abroad;
Our prayers were with them on the main,
God-speed the ship and all on board!

That vessel never reached the land!
No tidings of her ever came!
Those who beheld her leave the strand,
For years in anguish heard her name!
And even now in vain they try
To breathe it with a tranquil lip,
Or hide the moisture of the eye
While speaking of that missing ship.

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