“Who ventured brave as you? What of the dead?”

Again I saw the halo in her hair

And said: “The dead sail forward, hid behind

This wave that we ourselves must mount to find

The eternal way.

Adventurers of long ago

Seeking a richer gain than earthy gold,

They have left for us, half-told,

Their guesses of the port, more numerous and blind

Than their unnumbered and forgotten faces.

... And though today, as then,

Death is a wind blowing them forward out of sight and out of mind,

Yet in familiar and in unfamiliar places

Inquiring by what means I may

The destination of the wind

Of death, I have found signs and traces

Of the way they go

And with a quicker heart I have beheld again

In visions, from my ship at sea,

The great new world confronting me,

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