The Shipwrecked Mariner
The clouds are dark; the day is drear, The silent heavens drop with tears; And the fitful storm-wind moans in the shroud, And the wild waves rear in the shroud.
Oh, bear me away, to my native shore, Where the waves are bright, and the waters roar, And my own sweet maid waits, like the sun, With the winds of dawn to welcome me home.
- John G Whittier