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