By this, the night had settled on the sea, An interlunar night bereft of stars, For the dark azure of the deep was black To blackness of the overhanging heaven Hung thick with clouds. "See," Rachel added soon, "How the sky lowers! God fend us all from storm! Good night, my brother. David's word for me, 'In peace will I both lay me down and sleep, For Thou, Lord, only makest me to dwell In safety.'" "Yea, in safety also here, O sister," Paul said; "for the sea is His, He holds it in the hollow of His hand." Brother and sister parted with a kiss-- Kiss from the kindred habit of old time Dear, but far dearer in a dearer love, And, with some sense of reconcilement, sweet. Therewith the sister to her pillow went; But Paul abode to vigil on the deck. He pacing to and fro, the night wore on, And one by one his fellow-passengers Withdrawing left him more and more alone. A sheen of phosphorescence on the sea Kindled along the running vessel's side, And drew a trail of brilliance in her wake, Splendid a moment and then vanishing, Devoured by the immensity of dark Which made it for that moment so intense. Paul saw this, less admiring what he saw, Beautiful though it was and wonderful, Than musing what it seemed to mean for him: 'So my soul on her voyage through the world Lights her own pathway as she moves along; Bright ever where she is she makes her place, And ever plunges on into the dark Before her; but her latter end is light!'