Page:The year's at the spring.djvu/65

 THE • YEAR'S • AT • THE • SPRING

HERE are now the Captains

Of the narrow ships of old

Who with valiant souls went seeking

For the Fabled Fleece of Gold;

In the clouded Dusk of Ages,

In the Dawn of History,

When the ringing songs of Homer

First re-echoed o'er the Sea?

Oh, the Captains lie a-sleeping

Where great iron hulls are sweeping

Out of Suez in their pride;

And they hear not, and they heed not,

And they know not, and they need not

In their deep graves far and wide.

Where are now the Captains

Who went blindly through the Strait,

With a tribute to Poseidon,

A libation poured to Fate?

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