Articles

Henry Van Dyke
Professor of English Literature, Princeton
(1852-1933)
 

I am standing on the seashore
When a ship at my side,
Lifts its white sails to the morning breeze
And heads toward the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength,
And I stand and watch her
Until at length she hangs
like a speck of white cloud just where the sky
Comes down to mingle with the ocean.

Then someone at my side says,
"There, she's gone!"
Gone, gone where?
Gone from my side that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spars
as she was when he left my side.
Her diminished size
is in me not in her.

And just at that moment
when someone says, "She's gone!"
There are other eyes
watching her coming.

And other voices ready
to take up the glad shout,
"Here she comes, here she comes,
here she comes!"
And this is what it means
for a Christian to die.