Lincoln Ross Colcord

Hong Kong

In Lymoon Pass we felt the land
Grow near and high on either hand;
Strange voices shouted through the night,
Strange junks flashed out a signal light;
And soon we reached the land-locked bay
Where all the quiet vessels lay,
And felt the touch of life again,
And smelled the fresh land after rain;
While out from ships and hill and shore
There stole a voice we knew before.