Poet Herman Melville



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To The Master Of The Meteor

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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