Against the Rocking Mast I Stand

Against the rocking mast I stand,
The Atlantic surges swell
To bear me from my native land
And Psyche's wild farewell.
From billow upon billow hurl'd,
Again I hear her say,
"Oh! is there nothing in the world
Worth one short hour's delay? "
Alas, my Psyche! were it thus,
I should not sail alone,
Nor seas nor fates had sever'd us . .
But are you all my own?
Thus were it, never would burst forth
These sighs so deep, so true!
But, what to me is little worth,
The world, is much to you.
And you shall say, when once the dream
(So hard to break!) is o'er,
My love was very dear to him,
My fame and peace were more.