The ship that proudly leaves the shore,1
And dances through the foam,2
Alas !  may never visit more3
Its harbour’s peaceful home.4
The hands that gaily furl the sails,5
The feet that tread the deck,6
All—with the gallant bark herself,7
May soon become a wreck.8
And so too oft in life we start,9
Where every scene looks fair ;10
The future seems both gay and bright,11
Nor clouded o’er with care.12
But from the dream of bliss we wake,13
To find how sad our doom ;14
That all our fairest hopes must fade15
In sorrow and in gloom.16