The Wreck

Its huge red prow Uplifted in a tragic attitude, It waits out there; the seas around Bubble and hiss with moaning sound: In sight of port at the gates of the sea, It waits upreared expectantly.

It has known the joy of battle, It has known the shock of wreck: The spray coated its planking, The sands swallow its deck: Monument of the sea, That knows and that forgets eternally.

It heaves its scarred brow towards the city: The city pays it little heed: Indifferent, brutal, without pity, Stern cargo-steamers trudge and speed; The sun glares on it and the gulls wheel and flash, The rain beats on its deck, the winds pass silently; It is out there alone with the immense sea: Alone with its forgotten tragedy.