The Pilot

From the Past and Unavailing Out of cloudland we are steering; After groping, after fearing, Into starlight we come trailing, And we find the stars are true. Still, O comrade, what of you? You are gone, but we are sailing, And the old ways are all new.

For the Lost and Unreturning We have drifted, we have waited; Uncommanded and unrated, We have tossed and wandered, yearning For a charm that comes no more From the old lights by the shore: We have shamed ourselves in learning What you knew so long before.

For the Breed of the Far-going Who are strangers, and all brothers, May forget no more than others Who look seaward with eyes flowing. But are brothers to bewail One who fought so foul a gale? You have won beyond our knowing, You are gone, but yet we sail.