Page:The Poems and Prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, volume 2 (1869).djvu/471

Apply for service; day by day
Seek honest work for honest pay,
Without a fear by any toil
The over-cleanly hand to soil:

Secure in safety to return,
And every pettiness unlearn;
And unimpaired still find anew
My own and better self in you.

 

O ship, ship, ship,
 That travellest over the sea,
What are the tidings, I pray thee,
 Thou bearest hither to me?

Are they tidings of comfort and joy,
 That shall make me seem to see
The sweet lips softly moving
 And whispering love to me?

Or are they of trouble and grief,
 Estrangement, sorrow, and doubt,
To turn into torture my hopes,
 And drive me from Paradise out?

O ship, ship, ship,
 That comest over the sea,
Whatever it be thou bringest,
 Come quickly with it to me.
1853