In Harbor

Paul Hamilton Hayne (1830–1886)

I THINK it is over, over,

I think it is over at last:

Voices of foemen and lover,

The sweet and the bitter, have passed:

Life, like a tempest of ocean

Hath outblown its ultimate blast:

There ’s but a faint sobbing seaward

While the calm of the tide deepens leeward,

And behold! like the welcoming quiver

Of heart-pulses throbbed through the river,

Those lights in the harbor at last,

The heavenly harbor at last!

I feel it is over! over!

For the winds and the waters surcease;

Ah, few were the days of the rover

That smiled in the beauty of peace,

And distant and dim was the omen

That hinted redress or release!

From the ravage of life, and its riot,

What marvel I yearn for the quiet

Which bides in the harbor at last,—

For the lights, with their welcoming quiver

That throb through the sanctified river,

Which girdle the harbor at last,

This heavenly harbor at last?

I know it is over, over,

I know it is over at last!

Down sail! the sheathed anchor uncover,

For the stress of the voyage has passed:

Life, like a tempest of ocean,

Hath outbreathed its ultimate blast:

There ’s but a faint sobbing seaward,

While the calm of the tide deepens leeward;

And behold! like the welcoming quiver

Of heart-pulses throbbed through the river,

Those lights in the harbor at last,

The heavenly harbor at last!