THE VOYAGERS

WE shall launch our shallop on waters blue from some dim primrose shore,

We shall sail with the magic of dusk behind and en- chanted coasts before,

Over oceans that stretch to the sunset land where lost Atlantis lies,

And our pilot shall be the vesper star that shines in the amber skies.

The sirens will call to us again, all sweet and demon- ~ fair,

And a pale mermaiden will beckon us, with mist on her night-black hair;

We shall see the flash of her ivory arms, her mocking and luring face,

And her guiling laughter will echo through the great, wind—winnowed space.

But we shall not linger for woven spell, or sea-nymph’s sorceries,

It is ours to seek for the fount of youth, and the gold of Hesperides,

Till the harp of the waves in its rhythmic beat keeps time to our pulses’ swing,

And the orient welkin is smit to flame with auroral crimsoning.

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