WHILE the wind low o'er the green pool creeps
Spoiling with kisses the wood's mirrored beauty,
Kneel we close down by the margin preparing
To launch the frail craft on those perilous deeps.
Swift the wind takes them, we lean to see
Over the water gallantly faring
Forth our fantastical argosy.
Silver-white galleons beating to seaward,
Freighted with fancies lighter than foam,
Bound for far havens and tall towns enchanted—
Stir, sleepy breezes, and bring them safe home.
Cabot sailing for ever and ever
To the unknown where the wild ducks nest;
Morgan mooring to rape the treasure
Hid in a lily's unsullied breast;
Nearer, in shore among lowering leaf-bergs
Franklin, crushed on his fatal quest.
So I behold in your eyes re-awaken
Brave sad tales that the sea wind sings,
Tales of old mariners, daring hid dangers,
Ghosts of forgotten adventurings.
Heart of my heart, in your manhood's hereafter,
When you've grown taller, and harder to please,
Will you turn sometimes your wandering wishes
Back to the hours when with eyes full of laughter
You watched where the day-dreaming willow trees
Dipped their long fingers to catch at the fishes,
Mock sails flying on mimic seas?