Man's little acts are grand

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Man's little acts are grand,
Beheld from land to land,
There as they lie in time,
Within their native clime.
Ships with the noon-tide weigh,
And glide before its ray,
To some retired bay,
Their haunt,
Whence, under tropic sun,
Again they run,
Bearing gum Senegal and Tragicant.
For this was ocean meant,
For this the sun was sent,
And moon was lent,
And winds in distant caverns pent.