EDITORIAL NOTE TO POETRY

We only know that he sank. A star went out in the desolate void, And lone was the void. 73 What we have not But need, We must take. And so a good conscience I took. 74 Who is there that could bestow right upon thee? So take thy right! 75 O ye waves, Wondrous waves, are ye wroth with me? Do ye raise me your crests in wrath? With my rudder I smite Your folly full square. This bark ye yourselves To immortal life will carry along.