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POEMS FOR THE SEA.
White as the glancing sea-bird's wing
Their swelling sails expand,
Beside the bright Egean isles,
Or green Formosa's strand,
Or where the sparse Norwegian pine
A sudden summer shares,
Or Terra del Fuego's torch
Amid the tempest glares.
Unmoved, their trackless course they hold
Though vengeful Boreas roars,
And make their port on stranger coasts
Or undiscovered shores,
Rude people of a foreign speech,
Have learned their cheering cry,
"Land-ho! Aloft!" and "Bear-a-hand!"
With the ready tar's reply.
From zone to zone,—from pole to pole,
Where'er in swift career
The venturous keel a path explores,
Our Yankee sailors steer.