by Henry Jackson Van Dyke
“I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze
and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength
and I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea
and the sky meet and mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says,
‘there, She’s gone’
Gone from my sight, that is all.
She is just as large in mast and spar and hull
as ever she was when she left my side;
just as able to bear her load of living freight
to the place of her destination.
The diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment someone at my side says,
‘There, she’s gone’ there are other eyes watching her coming
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout.
‘Here she comes’
And that is—dying.”