Poems (Blake)/Whither?

by Mary Elizabeth Blake

WHITHER?

Whither, O shining sails that glide
 All rosy bright with morning's kiss,
Turning the clinging waves aside
 To reach some fairer world than this?

Whither, O shadowy sails that turn
 Beyond the sunset cold and dim,
To where the stars of evening burn
 Above the far horizon's rim?

Flushed with the eager dawning light,
 Pale with the evening's mystic pall,
They fade before our longing sight,
 And who shall say what chance may fall.

Some turn unknown of law or fate,
 May hide our farthest ken above,—
The seeming spell of some dark hate,
 Or the all-guiding power of love.

For one the tempest's wrath may wait
 To crush life's hopes so fair, so fond;
While one may pass through night's dark gate
 To the fair morning lands beyond!