Poems (Jackson)/Coming across

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COMING ACROSS.
EVERY sail is full set, and the sky And the sea blaze with light,And the moon mid her virgins glides on As St. Ursula might;And the throb of the pulse never stops, In the heart of the ship,As her measures of water and fire She drinks down at a sip. ​Yet I never can think, as I lie, And so wearily toss,That by saint, or by star, or by ship, I am coming across;
But by light which I know in dear eyes That are bent on the sea,And the touch I remember of hands That are waiting for me.By the light of the eyes I could come, If the stars should all fail;And I think, if the ship should go down, That the hands would prevail.Ah! my darlings, you never will know How I pined in the lossOf you all, and how breathless and glad I am coming across.
Steamship Russia, January 22, 1870,

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