Moby Dick by Herman Melville Chapter 128 Page 11

pushed her before it; while all the while, her masts and yards were thickly clustered with men, as three tall cherry trees, when the boys are cherrying among the boughs.

But by her still halting course and winding, woeful way, you plainly saw that this ship that so wept with spray, still remained without comfort.

She was Rachel, weeping for her children, because they were not.