XVI 
TO THE FIGURE-HEAD OF “ THE FOAM.” 
XII. 
And we with confident souls still followed you, 
Where stern those serried files of icebergs rose,— 
As James of Douglas followed,—staunch and true, 
The honoured heart he flung amongst his foes; 
XIII. 
Till in my sailors’ child-like hearts there grew 
A vague, half sportive reverence for that Form,— 
Which, like commissioned angel, onward flew, 
And with a halcyon spell conjured the storm ! 
XIV, 
What marvel then, if—when our wearied hull 
In some lone haven found a brief repose, 
Rude hands, by love made delicate, would cull 
A grateful garland for your Goddess brows ? 
xv. 
What marvel if their leader, too, would lay 
His fragile wreath of evanescent rhyme, 
At her dear feet whose image cheered his way, 
And warm’d with old home thoughts the lonely time, 
