 | Poems |  |
167
THE OLD ROMAN GALLEY.
Yon Galley dreaming on the bay
With scarcely heaving prow—
She was the fleetest in her day,
Tho' somewhat crippled now.
With scarcely heaving prow—
She was the fleetest in her day,
Tho' somewhat crippled now.
In vain her rivals crowded sail
And toiled with furious oar;
Her only rival was the gale,
Her only stop the shore.
And toiled with furious oar;
Her only rival was the gale,
Her only stop the shore.
She dreaded not the rocks that gird
The restless Hadrian seas,
And threaded, lightly as a bird,
The mazy Cyclades.
The restless Hadrian seas,
And threaded, lightly as a bird,
The mazy Cyclades.
She held her own with Rhodian craft,
Good sailers every one;
At Thrace's scowling horrors laughed,
And thro' Propontis spun;
Good sailers every one;
At Thrace's scowling horrors laughed,
And thro' Propontis spun;
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Then from the Passage of the Ox,
Like arrow quivering free,
Shot from between the Clashing Rocks
Into the Pontic Sea!
Like arrow quivering free,
Shot from between the Clashing Rocks
Into the Pontic Sea!
The Pontic!—on whose banks a wood,
Erst with her sister trees,
Fast anchored in the rock she stood
And wrestled with the breeze.
Erst with her sister trees,
Fast anchored in the rock she stood
And wrestled with the breeze.
For on the steep Cytorian Hills
Her sapling years were spent,
And seaward with the rushing rills
Her infant wishes went;
Her sapling years were spent,
And seaward with the rushing rills
Her infant wishes went;
Till from Cytorus' groves of box
And piny summits free,
Launched smoothly from Amastrian stocks,
She sought at length the Sea.
And piny summits free,
Launched smoothly from Amastrian stocks,
She sought at length the Sea.
Since then on many a lengthened course,
By many a savage shore,
When waves ran high and winds blew hoarse,
Her master safe she bore.
By many a savage shore,
When waves ran high and winds blew hoarse,
Her master safe she bore.
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She dared the storm with open sail
When others hugged the bay,
And swift, when sank th' exhausted gale,
Sped on her oary way.
When others hugged the bay,
And swift, when sank th' exhausted gale,
Sped on her oary way.
No demon of the deep she feared,
Nor danger of the shore,—
Past Scylla's rocks unscathed she steered
And braved Charybdis' roar.
Nor danger of the shore,—
Past Scylla's rocks unscathed she steered
And braved Charybdis' roar.
Such life was hers:
But now begin
The days when she must pray
The aid of Castor and his Twin,
Whom winds and waves obey.
But now begin
The days when she must pray
The aid of Castor and his Twin,
Whom winds and waves obey.
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