How was I worthy so divine a loss,
Deepening my midnights, kindling all my morns?
Why waste such precious wood to make my cross,
Such far-sought roses for my crown of thorns?
And when she came, how earned I such a gift?
Why spend on me, a poor earth...
"North and South too many an hour
I've by the skipper held the wheel;
Seen too many a hissing shower
O'er my old sou'-wester reel."
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