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When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant read more
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness:
So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain,
To sail o'er silent seas again.
Two lives that once part, are as ships that divide
When, moment on moment, there rushes between
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Two lives that once part, are as ships that divide
When, moment on moment, there rushes between
The one and the other, a sea;--
Ah, never can fall from the days that have been
A gleam on the years that shall be!
Like driftwood spares which meet and pass
Upon the boundless ocean-plain,
So on the sea of life, read more
Like driftwood spares which meet and pass
Upon the boundless ocean-plain,
So on the sea of life, alas!
Man nears man, meets, and leaves again.
As two floating planks meet and part on the sea,
O friend! so I met and then drifted from read more
As two floating planks meet and part on the sea,
O friend! so I met and then drifted from thee.
As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having read more
As drifting logs of wood may haply meet
On ocean's waters surging to and fro,
And having met, drift once again apart,
So, fleeting is the intercourse of men.
E'en as a traveler meeting with the shade
Of some o'erhung tree, awhile reposes,
Then leaves its shelter to pursue his ways,
So men meet friends, then part with them for ever.
We twain have met like the ships upon the sea,
Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet:
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We twain have met like the ships upon the sea,
Who behold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet:
One little hour! and then, away they speed
On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam,
To meet no more.
