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1826–1902

LOST AT SEA.

Frances Fuller Victor

A fleet set sail upon a summer sea: ‘ Tis now so long ago, I look no more to see my ships come home; But in that fleet sailed all‘ twas dear to me.

Ships never bore such precious freight as these, Please God, to any woe. His world is wide, and they may ride the foam, Secure from danger, in some unknown seas.

But they have left me bankrupt on life's‘ change; And daily I bestow Regretful tears upon the blank account, And with myself my losses rearrange.

Oh, mystic wind of fate, dost hold my dower Where I may never know? Of all my treasure ventured what amount Will the sea send me in my parting hour!

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LOST AT SEA. · Frances Fuller Victor · Poetry Cove