Fond are her eyes of blue,
Their light of bright Hope the hue,
And yet of the sea that with drear monotone,
Bewailing the death of life,
Love's flight from worldly strife,
Mocks its blue waves with its ne'er-ending moan.
With worshipping awe of her,
Fearing not death for her,
Holy the time when two souls flow as one.
Shun not the reef, my boat,
Light o'er the billows float,
Thy journey is endless and scarcely begun.
Now, while he bends to her,
Reverently tends to her
All that he hopes for on earth and above,
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