Always at Sea

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by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

   Always at sea I think about the dead.
   On barques invisible they seem to sail
   The self-same course; and from the decks cry ‘Hail’!
   Then I recall old words that they have said,
   And see their faces etched upon the mist—
      Dear faces I have kissed.

   Always the dead seem very close at sea.
   The coarse vibrations of the earth debar
   Our spirit friends from coming where we are.
   But through God’s ether, unimpeded, free,
   They wing their way, the ocean deeps above—
      And find the hearts that love.

   Always at sea my dead come very near.
   A growing host; some old in spirit lore,
   And some who crossed to find the other shore
   But yesterday. All, all, I see and hear
   With inner senses, while the voice of faith
      Proclaims—there is no death.

from An Englishman and Other Poems by Ella Wheeler Wilcox (1912)

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