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I have a sea-going spirit haunts my sleep,
Not a sad spirit wearisome to follow,
Less like a tenant of the mystic deep
Than the good fairy of the hazel hollow;
Full often at the midwatch of the night
I see departing in his silver bark
This spirit, steering toward an Eastern light,
Calling me to him from the Western dark.
"Spirit!" I ask, "say, whither bound away?"
"Unto the old Hesperides!" he cries.
"Oh, Spirit, take me in thy bark, I pray."
"For thee I came, " he joyfully replies;
"Exile! no longer shalt thou absent mourn,
For I the Spirit am men call--RETURN."

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