Now that Donal has made me cry, I thought I’d go ahead and borrow this from Bartleby. (You may read all 397 lines quietly to yourself here.)
785. The Building of the Ship
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)
Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O UNION, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
’Tis of the wave and not the rock;
’Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest’s roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o’er our fears,
Are all with thee,—are all with thee!
It’s not like me to be soppy (hah!), but this has been ONE. LONG. WAIT. Frankly, it’ll still be a long wait; we won’t wake up Wednesday — or even Thursday — with the world back to rights. But wouldn’t it be nice if we could wake up then and know that soon we could make a start?
Hi praise indeed, thank you.
Here’s to the end of that long wait and to new beginnings.
Hi praise indeed, thank you.Here’s to the end of that long wait and to new beginnings.
Hi praise indeed, thank you.
Here’s to the end of that long wait and to new beginnings.