FISHING FOR "BULL-HEADS" 



high above, a sound as of long waves in the 

 uttermost vaults where the pale stars lie. 



On summer nights the signal stars 



Flash o'er a wide, wild waste of seas 

 The signal lights of ruddy Mars, 



Orion and the Pleiades, 

 And down the wind a murmur sweeps 



Like whir of wings in circling flights, 

 The ebb and flow of mystic deeps 



On summer nights. 



