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 218 LONGFELLOW

With ceaseless flow,

His beard of snow

Heaves with the heaving of his breast.

He waits impatient for his bride.

There she stands,

With her foot upon the sands,

Decked with flags and streamers gay

In honour of her marriage day,

Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending,

Round her like a veil descending,

Ready to be

The bride of the grey, old sea.

On the deck another bride Is standing by her lover's side. Shadows from the flags and shrouds, Like the shadows cast by clouds, Broken by many a sunny fleck, Fall around them on the deck.

The prayer is said,

The service read,

The joyous bridegroom bows his head,

And in tears the good old Master

Shakes the brown hand of his son,

Kisses his daughter's glowing cheek

In silence, for he cannot speak,

And ever faster

Down his own the tears begin to run.

The worthy pastor

The shepherd of that wandering flock,

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