English Poetry III: From Tennyson to Whitman.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Arthur Hugh Clough
696. Qua Cursum Ventus
A
With canvas drooping, side by side,
Two towers of sail at dawn of day
Are scarce long leagues apart descried;
And all the darkling hours they plied,
Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas
By each was cleaving, side by side:
Of those, whom year by year unchanged,
Brief absence joined anew to feel,
Astounded, soul from soul estranged?
And onward each rejoicing steered—
Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,
Or wist, what first with dawn appeared!
Brave barks! In light, in darkness too,
Through winds and tides one compass guides:
To that, and your own selves, be true.
Though ne’er, that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,
Together lead them home at last.
One purpose hold where’er they fare,—
O bounding breeze, O rushing seas!
At last, at last, unite them there!