Page:Poems, now first collected, Stedman, 1897.djvu/211

PANAMA The Plaza folk that lazily

To mass and cockpit go,—

Then pound afresh, with clamor fell,

Each ancient, broken, thrice-blest bell,

Till thrice our mouths have cursed as well

The Bells of Panama.

The Cordillera guards the main

As when Pedrarias bore

The cross, the castled flag of Spain,

To the Pacific shore;

The tide still ebbs a league from quay,

The buzzards scour the emptied Bay:

Come out! Come out!"—still strive to say

The Bells of Panama. 191