All the long night, all the long day,
When the thick gray fogs of the sea were rolling,
Where combers boom in the leaden gloom,
I heard the lugubrious fog-bell tolling.
All the long night, all the long day,
With a sullen song and a voice grown weary,
The slow-tongued bell at each long low swell,
Complained of a life abysmally dreary.
All the long night, all the long day,
Rest from the tides! was the theme of her moaning;
But the thin-lipped surge, a pitiless urge,
Cracked his white lash and jeered at her groaning.
