Page:Poems Thaxter.djvu/145

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THE WHITE ROVER.
143
Upon the dim horizon melting, gleaming,
Slender, ethereal, like a lovely ghost
Soft looming, in the hazy distance dreaming,
Or gliding like a film along the coast,

I seem to see her yet: and skippers hoary,
Sailors and fishermen, will still relate
Among their sea-worn mates the simple story
Of how the wandering Rover met her fate;

And shake their heads: "Perhaps the tempest wrecked her,
But snug and trim and tidy, fore and aft,
I've seen the vessel since, or else her spectre,
Sailing as never yet sailed earthly craft,

Straight in the wind's teeth; and with steady motion
Cleaving a calm as if it blew a gale!"
And they are sure her wraith still haunts the ocean,
Mocking the sight with semblance of a sail.