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Herman Melville - To The Master Of The _Meteor_
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Lonesome on earth`s loneliest deep,
Sailor! who dost thy vigil keep--
Off the Cape of Storms dost musing sweep
Over monstrous waves that curl and comb;
Of thee we think when here from brink
We blow the mead in bubbling foam.

Of thee we think, in a ring we link;
To the shearer of ocean`s fleece we drink,
And the _Meteor_ rolling home.
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