Verse 7

I am standing on the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
out for the Blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty
and I stand and watch her until at
length she fades on the far horizon.
Then someone at my side says,
“There, she has gone” – Gone where?
Gone from my sight – that is all. She is
just as large in mast, hull and spar as
she was when she left my side.
The diminished size is in me and not in
her, and just at that moment when
someone by my side says, “ She’s
gone,” there are others to takeup the
glad shout – “there she comes.”
And that is dying.