To the Memory of My Father How we have sailed in half-forgotten ships, By shores unvisited, in boyish days; The friendly lights, their flash and swift eclipse; Islands and palm-fringed bays That linger on horizons of sweet dreams Though we have sunk those countries far astern; The trade-wind breeze, flower-filled; the lurid gleams Where tropic lightnings burn – These I recall, when ships and men were young; And while I catch the lost land-smell, and while I think how well we lived and loved among The thousand happy isles. The coasts still stand about the ancient sea; Ships in the offing rise, and days are fair; But much is changed: I realize, wonderingly, You are not sailing there. |
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