Poem about death and a ship

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poem about death and a ship

Quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: “Ships that pass in the night, and speak each ot...”

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Published 06.12.2018

#1 A Sad Poem About Death

I Am Standing Upon The Seashore

Gone from my Sight 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. I stand watch her at length until she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Gone from my sight. That is all.

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 until at last she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says, ' There she goes! Gone from my sight She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination.

What is dying I am standing on the seashore, a ship sails in the morning breeze and starts for the ocean. She is an object of beauty and I stand watching her till at last she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says: "She is gone. Where Gone from my sight that is all. She is just as large in the masts, hull and spars as she was when I saw her, and just as able to bear her load of living freight to its destination. The diminished size and total loss of sight is in me, not in her, and just at the moment when someone at my side says, "She is gone" there are others who are watching her coming, and other voices take up a glad shout: "There she comes! Published by: Esplanade Publishing Ltd.

upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, / spreads her white sails to the movi. And that is dying. Aspire to be - Been trying to write a poem like this, very good.
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Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; I look far out into the pregnant night, Where I can hear the solemn booming gun And catch the gleaming of a random light, That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing. My tearful eyes my soul's deep hurt are glassing; For I would hail and check that ship of ships.

A moving funeral verse about death and the afterlife. 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. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast, hull and spar as she was when she left my side.

Luther F. At least three publications credit the poem to Luther Beecher in printings shortly after his death in However, it is often attributed to Henry Van Dyke , probably due to his name appearing as the author in a widely distributed booklet by Barbara Karnes entitled "Gone from My Sight. It is also often read at funerals and memorial services. 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.

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