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Ella Wheeler Wilcox - Always At Sea
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Always at sea I think about the dead.
On barques invisible they seem to sail
The self-same course; and from the decks cry `Hail`!
Then I recall old words that they have said,
And see their faces etched upon the mist—
Dear faces I have kissed.


Always the dead seem very close at sea.
The coarse vibrations of the earth debar
Our spirit friends from coming where we are.
But through God`s ether, unimpeded, free,
They wing their way, the ocean deeps above—
And find the hearts that love.


Always at sea my dead come very near.
A growing host; some old in spirit lore,
And some who crossed to find the other shore
But yesterday. All, all, I see and hear
With inner senses, while the voice of faith
Proclaims—there is no death.
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