Note 26 — Chapter III · 1843. AT ALLAHABAD
Reading edition
The words are so beautiful and pathetic that I transcribe them.
Float on, float on, my haunted bark, Above the midnight tide; Bear softly o’er the waters dark The hopes that with thee glide. Float on, float on, thy freight is flowers, And every flower reveals The dreaming of my lonely hours, The hope my spirit feels. Float on, float on, thy shining lamp, The light of love is there; If lost beneath the waters damp, That love must then despair. Float on, beneath the moonlight float, The sacred billows o’er; Ah! some kind spirit guards my boat, For it has gained the shore.