Clear this harbor, reef and buoy,

31

 Bowling down an open bee-line

 For the latitudes of joy;

 Till beyond the zones of sorrow,

 Past griefs haven in the night,

 Some large simpler world shall morrow

 This pale region’s northern light.

 Not a fear but all the sea-room,

 Wherein time is but a bay,

 Yet shall sparkle for our lee-room

 In the vast Altrurian day.

 And the dauntless seaworn spirit

 Shall awake to know there are

 What dominions to inherit,

 Anchored off another star!

 32  

32

A Song Before Sailing

 “Cras ingens iterabimus aequor.”

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