Normale Version: MIDNIGHT AT SEA.
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THROUGH the deep stillness of the awful night,
I heard the clamor of the ship's great bell—
A voice cried: "Twelve o'clock, and all is well!"
Then silence, and the solemn, watching light
Of the white moon, on billows wild and white
That yielded, to her magical, dear spell,
The stormy hearts no lesser charm could quell—
Slaves of her lamp, and powerless to affright.
Ah, when across the wide, unfathomed sea
Which no chart maps, whose depth no plummet knows,
To some dim, unconjectured shore we steer,
Through that wild night, into whose depths we flee
Farther than any wind from this world blows,
May cry of "All is well" our midnight cheer!