POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
PICTURES
Hung in the parlors of the town
Are many pictures of tall ships,
White-billowy to their pennon-tips,
And painted black or shining brown
And, seeing them, the wild thought slips
Back to those wild and white sea-trips
When Round Pond shared the sea's renown;
And all her captains sailed a fleet,
Long-keeled and deep, around the Horn,
Where Del Fuego lies forlorn
In cloudy rack or scudding sleet.
On other seas of Capricorn
Old voyagers knew their house-flags, borne
Where Indian and Pacific meet.
Strong oils and wool from Boston bar,
Bright silks from busy blue Hong Kong—
And many a little mellow gong
On the shore wind, cleared for Samar
And all the isles of Orient song.
Oh, how the wind-clips sails would throng!
Great ships—who knows now where they are?
The captains leave their white-walled homes
Built out of earnings from far lands,
[14]
