When My Ship Comes In

By Robert Jones Burdette

Somewhere, out on the blue sea sailing,
Where the winds dance and spin;
Beyond the reach of my eager hailing,
Over the breakers’ din;
Out where the dark storm-clouds are lifting,
Out where the blinding fog is drifting,
Out where the treacherous sand is shifting,
My ship is coming in.
O, I have watched till my eyes were aching,
Day after weary day;
O, I have hoped till my heart was breaking
While the long nights ebbed away;
Could I but know where the waves had tossed her,
Could I but know what storms had crossed her,
Could I but know where the winds had lost her,
Out in the twilight gray!
But though the storms her course have altered,
Surely the port she’ll win,
Never my faith in my ship has faltered,
I know she is coming in.
For through the restless ways of her roaming,
Through the mad rush of the wild waves foaming,
Through the white crest of the billows combing,
My ship is coming in.
Beating the tides where the gulls are flying,
Swiftly she’s coming in:
Shallows and deeps and rocks defying,
Bravely she’s coming in.
Precious the love she will bring to bless me,
Snowy the arms she will bring to caress me,
In the proud purple of kings she will dress me—
My ship that is coming in.
White in the sunshine her sails will be gleaming,
See, where my ship comes in;
At masthead and peak her colors streaming,
Proudly she’s sailing in;
Love, hope and joy on her decks are cheering,
Music will welcome her glad appearing,
And my heart will sing at her stately nearing,
When my ship comes in.

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