A moonless night had turned the waves
To mounds of molten lead,
That moired the main with fancied graves
Above the unnoted dead.
I looked out o'er th' unyielding sea,
The great Goigothian plain,
Then up to where the stars should be
And sighed for all the slain.
For some there were who had been bound
To breast life's breakers through,
With those whom fate had buoyed beyond
Th' horizon of their woe,
And some had raised their hands and sank,
And — no-one — saw — them — go.