I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white
cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
Gone from my sight. That is all.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says:
"There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"Here she comes!" And that is dying.