O Neptune, in thy vast survey
Of all the ships that sail,
Watch lovingly the well-known way
Of one we wait to hail.
The Cephalonia is her name—
But why need I tell more?
Thou knowest indeed the well earned fame
She bears from shore to shore.
But since among her company's band
Is one who's life to me,
O Neptune, bear her in thy hand
E'en yet more tenderly,
O'er gentle waves, 'neath fair blue sky,
'Midst winds that only blow
To make the time more swiftly fly
For hearts that hunger so.
Boston, September 4, 1886.