Be still, thou blue horizon sky,
as sails caress your silver line,
and disappear where mansions lie.
Take me through the waters deep.
Take me past your silver line,
beyond all dreams or weary sleep.
Twilight forms the silver line.
Enduring the night for coming morn.
What lies beyond is called sublime.
I hear the call as angels sing,
And set my sails for distant shores,
Where winter’s melt blooms into spring