Poem by Lincoln Ross Colcord

The Westerlies

Cold winds, dead aft, and heavy running seas
That swung us onward faster than the breeze;
Bleak day, and lurid sunsets, and wild skies,
And lonesomeness that broods as the day dies.
Abandoned course, below the happy world;
A staggering ship, with upper canvas furled,
Flooded by crashing seas, day after day,
In the Roaring Forties, where the wind has its way.

1. The North Watcher
2. The Maine Stein Song
3. Hong Kong
4. To the Memory of My Father
5. Fernando de Noronha

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