Classic Poem

Here spread the waters dark and deep,
Where now your ashes are lying.
Oh, tell me, my father, will you keep
The promise you made when dying?
Then rise, O wraith, from your watery grave,
Speak the word that was uttered never,
Oh, give the token that none yet gave,
If the dead may live on forever!

From the dark the surf rolls in its foam,
With a curve of white it enrings me;
A storm-cloud points to the starry dome,
As though some token it flings me;
But Fate, like the night, is hushed in gloom,
And naught in answer it brings me.

No answer for him who does not see
What you, ye stars, are outpouring.
I am one with you from eternity,
With the winds and the surf's loud roaring.
Then shine for me, stars, and guide me on,
For you are my father since he is gone!