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I was leaning on the bulwarks ;
The line we'd crossed at last, And, sparkling little wavelets on,
The sea's long swell rolled past; 'Twas noon ; I gazed adown the green,
Whence the flying-fish would leap, Where the shark at times, and monsters strange
Sank down, down, through the deep ; 'Twas then, while most were dozing,
Tired out of sky and sea, Up from the depths of ocean,
A vision rose to me.