The Lost Galleon and Other Tales

The Two Ships

Bret Harte

AS I stand by the cross on the lone mountain’s crest,
        Looking over the ultimate sea,
In the gloom of the mountain a ship lies at rest,
        And one sails away from the lea:
One spreads its white wings on a far-reaching track,
        With pennant and sheet flowing free;
One hides in the shadow with sails laid aback,—
        The ship that is waiting for me!

But lo! in the distance the clouds break away,
        The Gate’s glowing portals I see;
And I hear from the outgoing ship in the bay
        The song of the sailors in glee.
So I think of the luminous footprints that bore
        The comfort o’er dark Galilee,
And wait for the signal to go to the shore,
        To the ship that is waiting for me.

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