Rose from the boiling, bubbling, seething And overflowed With the black tar, heated for the sheathing. And amid the clamors Of clattering hammers, He who listened heard now and then "Build me straight, O worthy Master, Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle! " With oaken brace and copper band, Lay the rudder on the sand, That, like a thought, should have control And near it the anchor, whose giant hand. Hold the great ship against the bellowing blast! By a cunning artist carved in wood, But modelled from the Master's daughter! The pilot of some phantom bark, Each tall and tapering mast Shrouds and stays Holding it firm and fast! Long ago, In the deer-haunted forests of Maine, When upon mountain and plain Lay the snow, They fell, those lordly pines! Those grand, majestic pines! The jaded steers, Panting beneath the goad, Dragged down the weary, winding road To feel the stress and the strain Of the wind and the reeling main, Whose roar Would remind them for evermore Of their native forests they should not see again. And everywhere The slender, graceful spars Poise aloft in the air, And at the mast head, White, blue, and red, A flag unrolls the stripes and stars. Ah, when the wanderer, lonely, friendless, That flag unrolled, "Twill be as a friendly hand Stretched out from his native land, Filling his heart with memories sweet and endless! All is finished! and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched! With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, Slowly, in all his splendors dight, The great sun rises to behold the sight. The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide, With ceaseless flow, His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast. He waits impatient for his bride. There she stands, With her foot upon the sands, Decked with flags and streamers gay, In honor of her marriage day, Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, On the deck another bride Is standing by her lover's side. Fall around them on the deck. The prayer is said, The service read, The joyous bridegroom bows his head. Down his own the tears begin to run. The shepherd of that wandering flock, Of the sailor's heart, All its pleasures and its griefs, All those secret currents, that flow And lift and drift, with terrible force, "Like unto ships far off at sea, Floats and swings the horizon's bound, And climb the crystal wall of the skies, As if we could slide from its outer brink. It is not the sea that sinks and shelves, That rock and rise With endless and uneasy motion, Now sinking into the depths of ocean. To the toil and the task we have to do, Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, She starts, she moves,—she seems to feel |