Gone From My Sight By Henry Van Dyke I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side, spreads it's white sails to the moving breeze and starts for the blue ocean. It is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch it until, at length, it hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Then, someone at my side says, "There, it is gone." Gone where? Gone from my sight. That is all. It is just as large in mast, hull and spar as it was when it left my side. And, it is just as able to bear it's load of living freight to it's destined port. It's diminished size is in me -- not in it. And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, it is gone," there are other eyes watching it coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, "Here it comes!" And that is dying...