Edwin Arlington Robinson — The Flying Dutchman

Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,        &nbsp Afloat with none to serve or to command, Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,        &nbsp He seeks the Vanished Land. Alone, by the one light of his one thought,        &nbsp He steers to find the shore from which we came, — Fearless of in what coil he may be caught        &nbsp On seas that have no name. Into the night he sails; and after night        &nbsp There is a dawning, though there be no sun; Wherefore, with nothing but himself in sight,        &nbsp Unsighted, he sails on. At last there is a lifting of the cloud        &nbsp Between the flood before him and the sky; And then — though he may curse the Power aloud        &nbsp That has no power to die — He steers himself away from what is haunted        &nbsp By the old ghost of what has been before, — Abandoning, as always, and undaunted,        &nbsp One fog-walled island more.