My dream-ship's decks are of beaten gold,
And her fluttering banners are brave of hue,
And her shining sails are of satin fold,
And her tall sides gleam where the warm waves woo:
While the flung spray leaps in a diamond dew
From her bright bow, dipping its dance of glee;
For the skies are fair and the soft winds coo,
Where my dream-ship sails o'er the silver sea.

My dream-ship's journeys are long and bold,
And the ports she visits are far and few;
They lie by the rosy shores of old,
'Mid the dear lost scenes my boyhood knew;
Or, deep in the future's misty blue,
By the purple islands of Arcady,—
And Spain's fair turrets shine full in view,
Where my dream-ship sails o'er the silver sea.

My dream-ship's cargo is wealth untold,
Rare blooms that the old home gardens grew,
Sweet pictured faces, and loved songs trolled
By lips long laid 'neath the churchyard yew;
Or wondrous wishes not yet come true,
And fame and glory that is to be;—
Hope holds the wheel all the lone watch through,
Where my dream-ship sails o'er the silver sea.