I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads his white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. He is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch him until, at length, he hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, he is gone."
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. He is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as he was when he left my side.
And, he is just as able to bear his load of living freight to his destined port.
Hisr diminished size is in me -- not in him.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, he is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here he comes!"
And that is dying...
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