We stood upon the deck and saw
Mid fog and mist the iceberg loom;
And while we gazed in wondering awe,
It vanished into mist and gloom.
With various skill each tried to draw
What printed on his brain had been
The vision that he thought he saw
Or that he thought he should have seen.
Some drew it flat, some drew it round
And some with many a tower and steeple
And when we shewed our work we found
As many bergs as there were people!
Across each other's paths we drift
Pale shadows on a misty sea.
The clouds but for a moment lift
Then naught is left but memory.
If then at any distant day
Your thoughts should chance to turn to me
Draw me not as I am, I pray,
But as you think I ought to be.