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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 237 |
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White as a seagull, she swept the long passage. True as the homing-bird flies with its message. Love her ? O richer than silk every sail of her. Trust her ? More precious than gold every nail of her. Write we down faithfully every man's part in her; Greet we all gratefully every true heart in her. More than a name to us, sailing the fleetest, Symbol of that which is purest and sweetest: More than a keel to us, steering the straightest, Emblem of that which is freest and greatest: More than dove-bosomed sail to the windward, Flame passing on while the night-clouds fly hindward. Kiss every plank of her ! None shall take rank of her; Frontward or weatherward, none can eclipse. Thunder our thanks to her ! Cheer from the banks
to her ! Mayflower ! Foremost and best of our ships ! |
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MY NATIVE LAND
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T chanced to me upon a time to sail Across the Southern ocean to and fro; And, landing at fair isles, by stream and vale Of sensuous blessing did we ofttimes go. And months of dreamy joys, like joys in sleep,
Or like a clear, calm stream o'er mossy stone, Unnoted passed our hearts with voiceless sweep, And left us yearning still for lands unknown.
And when we found one, for 'tis soon to find In thousand-isled Cathay another isle,—
For one short noon its treasures filled the mind, And then again we yearned, and ceased to smile. |
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