(Second Annex)
Sail Out for Good, Eidólon Yacht!
Heave the anchor short! Raise main-sail and jib—steer forth, O little white-hull’d sloop, now speed on really deep waters, (I will not call it our concluding voyage, But outset and sure entrance to the truest, best, maturest;) Depart, depart from solid earth—no more returning to these shores, Now on for aye our infinite free venture wending, Spurning all yet tried ports, seas, hawsers, densities, gravitation, Sail out for good, eidólon yacht of me!
Lingering Last Drops
And whence and why come you?
We know not whence, (was the answer,) We only know that we drift here with the rest, That we linger’d and lagg’d—but were wafted at last, and are now here, To make the passing shower’s concluding drops.
Good-Bye My Fancy
Goodbye my fancy—(I had a word to say, But ’tis not quite the time—The best of any man’s word or say, Is when its proper place arrives—and for its meaning, I keep mine till the last.)