On The Shore I Sit And Gaze Out On The Twilight Sea, For My Ship May Come, Though Many Days I Have Waited Patiently; With Waiting Trusting Eyes, A Lonely Watch I Keep For Its Silver Sails To Rise Like A Blossom Out Of The Deep. It Is Built Of A Costly Wood, Bearing The Strange Perfume Of The Gorgeous Solitude, Where It Grew In Tropical Gloom; And The Odorous Scent, The Spicy Balm Of Its Isle It Will Bear To Me, As I Stand On The Shore, In The Magic Calm. And My Ship Come In From Sea. It Is Laden With All That Is Sweet Of The Beauty Of Every Clime; Slowly And Proudly 'Twill Glide To My Feet In The Eve Of That Fair "Sometime," Before Me Its Sails Will Be Furled, A Princess I Shall Be, Crowned With The Wealth Of The World, When My Ship Comes In From Sea. Sweet Faces I Then Shall See, Tender, Undoubting, True, Soft Hands Will Be Stretched To Me With A Welcome I Never Knew; In The Peace Of Such Tenderness I Shall Rest Forevermore, And Weep In My Perfect Bliss, As I Never Wept Before. Sometimes I Think It Is Not Far And I Bend My Head And List, For I Think I See A Slender Spar Gleam Through The Golden Mist; And I Fancy I Hear The Sound Of Wind In A Silken Sail, And An Odor Rare From Eastern Ground, Floats In On The Languid Gale. But I Sit And Watch The West Till The Sun Goes Down, In Vain; It Was Only A Cloud With An Ivory Crest, A Cloud Of Vapor And Rain; It Rises And Hides The Sea, And My Heart Grows Chill And Numb, Lest This Terrible Thing Should Be, That My Ship Will Never Come. But The Morn Is Bright - The Wave Is A Golden And Shining Track, Softly The Waters The White Sands Lave, And My Trusting Faith Comes Back; Oh, All That I Ever Lost, And All That I Long To Be, Will Be Mine When The Deep Is Crossed, And My Ship Comes Home From Sea.