Thou Ship of Earth, with Death, and Birth, and Life, and Sex aboard,
And fires of Desires burning hotly in the hold,
I fear thee, O! I fear thee, for I hear the tongue and sword
At battle on the deck, and the wild mutineers are bold!
 
The dewdrop morn may fall from off the petal of the sky,    
But all the deck is wet with blood and stains the crystal red.
A pilot, God, a pilot! For the helm is left awry,
And the best sailors in the ship lie there among the dead!