The Old Hulk

Moored to the decaying piling Of a ruined wharf, and whiling Endless hours away in dreams of days gone by, Lies a battered hulk, dismasted, Broken backed and tempest blasted, Like a dolphin fast aground and left to die.

Deck awash and planking slanted Like a broken lily planted In the mud, where every tide the eddies swirl, Years have gone since last it floated And the sea growths all unnoted, Underneath its rotting timbers twine and curl.

Often when my footsteps tended To that lonely shore that ended All its voyagings there sounded in my ear, What the shrilling sea birds uttered And the voiceless current muttered Solemn messages it meant for me to hear;

“Far off seas no more beguile me “But their memories reconcile me “To the shelter of this silver mirrored cove “Where my outline seems engraven “Like an etching. Safe in haven “I am home at last, and nevermore shall rove.”