Sometime at Eve

Sometime at eve when the tide is low,

I shall slip my mooring and sail away

     With no response to the friendly hail

Of kindred craft in the busy bay.

In the silent hush of the twilight pale

When the night stoops down to embrace the day

And the voices call in the water’s flow….

Sometime at eve when the tide is low

I shall slip my mooring and sail away.

Through the purpling shadows that darkly trail

O’er the ebbing tide of the Unknown Sea,

I shall fare me away, with a dip of sail

And ripple of waters to tell the tale

     Of a lonely voyager, sailing away

To the Mystic Isles where at anchor lay

The crafts of those who have sailed before

O’er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.

A few who have watched me sail away

Will miss my craft from the busy bay;

Some friendly barks that were anchored near,

Some loving souls that my heart held dear,

In silent sorrow will drop a tear—

But I shall have peacefully furled my sail

In moorings sheltered from storm or gale

And greeted the friends who have sailed before

O’er the Unknown Sea to the Unseen Shore.

Elizabeth Clark Hardy