Lined blind with true sea's blue, as due—

Promising—not to pay?

II

For the sea's debt leaves wet the sand;

Burst worst fate's weights in one burst gun?

A man's own yacht, blown—What? off land?

Tack back, or veer round here, then—queer!

Reef points, though—understand?

III

I'm blest if I do. Sigh? be blowed!

Love's doves make break life's ropes, eh? Tropes!

Faith's brig, baulked, sides caulked, rides at road;

Hope's gropes befogged, storm-dogged and bogged—

Clogged, water-logged, her load!

[Pg 389]

IV

Stowed, by Jove, right and tight, away!

No show now how best plough sea's brow,

Wrinkling—breeze quick, tease thick, ere day,

Clear sheer wave's sheen of green, I mean,

 Prev. P 17/49 next