Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/264

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SHIPS AT SEA.
Great the treasures that they hold,
Silks, and plumes, and bars of gold,
While the spices which they bear
Fill with fragrance all the air,
        As they sail, as they sail.

Every sailor in the port
 Knows that I have ships at sea,
Of the waves and winds the sport,
 And the sailors pity me.
Oft they come and with me walk,
Cheering me with hopeful talk,
Till I put my fears aside,
And contented watch the tide
        Rise and fall, rise and fall.

I have waited on the piers,
 Gazing for them down the bay,
Days and nights, for many years,
 Till I turned heart-sick away.
But the pilots, when they land,
Stop and take me by the hand,
Saying, "You will live to see
Your proud vessels come from sea,
        One and all, one and all."

So I never quite despair,
 Nor let hope or courage fail,
And some day, when skies are fair,
 Up the bay my ships will sail.
I can buy then all I need,
Prints to look at, books to read,
Horses, wines, and works of art,
Everything except a heart—
        That is lost, that is lost.

Once, when I was pure and young,
 Poorer, too, than I am now,
Ere a cloud was o'er me flung,
 Or a wrinkle creased my brow,
There was one whose heart was mine,
But she's sometflipg now divine,
And, though come my ships from sea,
They can bring no heart to me,
        Evermore, evermore.

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