A Marine Etching

A yacht from its harbor ropes pulled free,
    And leaped like a steed o'er the race track blue,
Then up behind her, the dust of the sea,
    A gray fog drifted, and hid her from view.

Skilled mariner, and counted sane and wise,
    That was a curious thing which chanced to me,
    So good a sailor on so fair a sea.
With favouring winds and blue unshadowed skies,
Led by the faithful beacon of Love's eyes,
    Past reef and shoal, my life-boat bounded free
    And fearless of all changes that might be
Under calm waves, where many a sunk rock lies.

A golden dawn; yet suddenly my barque
    Strained at the sails, as in a cyclone's blast;
    And battled with an unseen current's force,
For we had entered when the night was dark
    That old tempestuous Gulf Stream of the Past.
    But for love's eyes, I had not kept the course.

Landward the tide setteth buoyantly breezily, -
    Landward the waves ripple sparkling and free, -
Ho, the proud ship, like a thing of life, easily,
    Gracefully sweeps o'er the white-crested sea!
In from the far-away lands she is steering now,
    Straight for her anchorage, fearless and free, -
Lo, as I gaze, how she seems to be nearing now,
    Sun-lighted shores, a still haven, and me!

Landward the tide setteth! - mark my proud argosy
    As the breeze flutters her pennons of snow,
Wafting from far the glad mariner's melody
    O'er the blue waters in rhythmical flow!
Tell me, oh, soul of mine, what is the freightage fair
    'Neath her white wings that she beareth to thee?
Treasures of golden ore, gems from Golconda's shore,
    Lo, she is brin...

The Charles-and-Emma seaward sped,
(Named from the carven pair at prow,)
He so smart, and a curly head,
She tricked forth as a bride knows how:
Pretty stem for the port, I trow!

But iron-rust and alum-spray
And chafing gear, and sun and dew
Vexed this lad and lassie gay,
Tears in their eyes, salt tears nor few;
And the hug relaxed with the failing glue.

But came in end a dismal night,
With creaking beams and ribs that groan,
A black lee-shore and waters white:
Dropped on the reef, the pair lie prone:
O, the breakers dance, but the winds they moan!

I saw the old sea captain in his city daughter's house,
Shaved till his chin was pink, and brushed till his hair was flat,
In a broadcloth suit and varnished boots and a collar up to his ears.
(I'd seen him last with a slicker on and a tied down oilskin hat.)

And it happened that I went home last June, and saw in Mallory's yard
The old red dory that sprung a leak a couple of years ago,
Dragged out of good salt water and braced to stand in the grass
And be filled with dirt from stem to stern, where posies and such could grow.

Painted to beat the band, with vines strung over the sides
And red geraniums in the bow,--a boat that was built for water
Made into a flower garden. I looked, but I didn't laugh,
For I thought of the old sea captain living in town with his daughter.

We stood by the river that swept
    In its glory and grandeur away;
But never a pulse o' me leapt,
    And you wondered at me that day.

We stood by the lake as it lay
    With its dimpled face turned to the light;
Was it strange I had nothing to say
    To so fair and enchanting a sight?

I look on your tresses of gold -
    You are fair and a thing to be loved -
Do you think I am heartless and cold
    That I look and am wholly unmoved?

One answer, dear friend, I will make
    To the questions your eyes ask of me:
"Talk not of the river or lake
    To those who have looked on the sea"