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 The many men so beautiful,
 * And they all dead did lie!

And a million million limy things
 * Liv'd on—and so did I.

I look'd upon the rotting Sea,
 * And drew my eyes away;

I look'd upon the eldritch deck,
 * And there the dead men lay.

I look'd to Heaven, and try'd to pray;
 * But or ever a prayer had gusht,

A wicked whisper came and made
 * My heart as dry as dust.

I clos'd my lids and kept them close,
 * Till the balls like pulses beat;

For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye,
 * And the dead were at my feet.