Behind him lay the gray Azores，Behind the gates of Hercules；Before him not the ghost of shores，Before him only shoreless seas.
The good mate said：“Now we must pray，For，lo！the very stars are gone.
Brave Adm‘r’l，speak；what shall I say？”“Why，say：‘Sail on！sail on！and on！’““My men grow mutinous day by day；My men grow ghastly wan and weak.”The stout mate thought of home；a sprayOf salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.“What shall I say，brave Adm‘r’l，say，If we sight naught but seas at dawn？”“Why，you shall say，at break of day：
‘Sail on！sail on！sail on！and on！’“They sailed and sailed as winds might blow，Until at last the blanched mate said：
“Why，now not even God would know Should I and all my men fall dead.
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak，brave Adm‘r’l，speak and say”He said：“Sail on！sail on！and on！”
They sailed.They sailed.Then spake the mate：“This mad sea shows his teeth tonight；He curls his lip，he lies in wait，With lifted teeth as if to bite：Brave Adm‘r’l，say but one good word；What shall we do when hope is gone？”The words leapt as a leaping sword：
“Sail on！sail on！sail on！and on！”
And peered through darkness.Ah，that night Of all dark nights！And then，a speckA light！a light！a light！a light！
It grew，a starlit flag unfurled！
It grew to be Time‘s burst of dawn.He gained a world；he gave that worldIts greatest lesson：“On！sail on！”
