The Flying Dutchman

Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,

       &nbsp Afloat with none to serve or to command,

Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,

       &nbsp He seeks the Vanished Land.



Alone, by the one light of his one thought,

       &nbsp He steers to find the shore from which we came, —

Fearless of in what coil he may be caught

       &nbsp On seas that have no name.



Into the night he sails; and after night

       &nbsp There is a dawning, though there be no sun;

Wherefore, with nothing but himself in sight,

       &nbsp Unsighted, he sails on.



At last there is a lifting of the cloud

       &nbsp Between the flood before him and the sky;

And then — though he may curse the Power aloud

       &nbsp That has no power to die —



He steers himself away from what is haunted

       &nbsp By the old ghost of what has been before, —

Abandoning, as always, and undaunted,

       &nbsp One fog-walled island more.