the river of nine bends

a gone shipmate, like any other man, is gone forever; and i never met one of them again. but at times the spring-flood of memory sets with force up the dark River of the Nine Bends. then on the waters of the forlorn stream drifts a ship -manned by a crew of Shades. they pass and make a sign, in a shadowy hail. haven't we, together and upon the immortal sea, wrung out a meaning from our sinful lives? goodbye brothers! you were a good crowd. as good a crowd as ever fisted with wild cries the beating canvas of a heavy foresail; or tossing aloft, invisible in the night, gave back yell for yell to a westerly gale.

-joseph conrad