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Robert Louis Stevenson - To N. V. De G. S.Robert Louis Stevenson - To N. V. De G. S.
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THE UNFATHOMABLE sea, and time, and tears,   The deeds of heroes and the crimes of kings   Dispart us; and the river of events   Has, for an age of years, to east and west   More widely borne our cradles. Thou to me           Art foreign, as when seamen at the dawn   Descry a land far off and know not which.   So I approach uncertain; so I cruise   Round thy mysterious islet, and behold   Surf and great mountains and loud river-bars,           And from the shore hear inland voices call.   Strange is the seaman’s heart; he hopes, he fears;   Draws closer and sweeps wider from that coast;   Last, his rent sail refits, and to the deep   His shattered prow uncomforted puts back.           Yet as he goes he ponders at the helm   Of that bright island; where he feared to touch,   His spirit readventures; and for years,   Where by his wife he slumbers safe at home,   Thoughts of that land revisit him; he sees           The eternal mountains beckon, and awakes   Yearning for that far home that might have been.
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