FISHERMEN 8 MEMORIAL AND UECOUD BOOK. 



143 



YACHTING. 



BT HENBT A. KENDALL. 



Fill, snowy sails, until our rail* 



Careening kiss the sea ; 

 White cresu of foam abandon home 



To bear us company I 



And, brave topmast, defy the blast, 



Clear whistle in the wind; 

 These blight green waves were never graves, 



Till hope was left behind. 



Nor hopeful decks can turn to wrecks 



While water washes keel 

 " Bo bind the sheete to weather-cleats," 



Loud sings the pilot at the wheel. 



These clouds, storm-gray, will burn away, 

 The wind go down with the son ; 



And Dian bright, with her silver light, 

 Will gild our sails as we onward run. 



Already in lulls we hear the gulls, 



And see the petrels flitting by ; 

 And He whose might notes swallows' flight, 



Will give us at length a tranquil sky, 



And wind as fair as stirred the air, 

 With waves that dance, as when 



Columbus left the Indian isles, 

 Ami steered his shallop back to Spain I 



