© August 10 photo by smck |
© August 10 photo by smck |
IN PORT
Out of the fires of the sunset come we again to our own–
We have girdled the world in our sailing under many an orient star;
Still to our battered canvas the scents of the spice gales cling,
And our hearts are swelling within us as we cross the harbor bar.
We have girdled the world in our sailing under many an orient star;
Still to our battered canvas the scents of the spice gales cling,
And our hearts are swelling within us as we cross the harbor bar.
Beyond are the dusky hills where the twilight hangs in the pine trees,
Below are the lights of home where are watching the tender eyes
We have dreamed of on fretted seas in the hours of long night-watches,
Ever a beacon to us as we looked to the stranger skies.
Below are the lights of home where are watching the tender eyes
We have dreamed of on fretted seas in the hours of long night-watches,
Ever a beacon to us as we looked to the stranger skies.
Hark! how the wind comes out of the haven's arms to greet us,
Bringing with it the song that is sung on the ancient shore!
Shipmates, furl we our sails–we have left the seas behind us,
Gladly finding at last our homes and our loves once more.
Bringing with it the song that is sung on the ancient shore!
Shipmates, furl we our sails–we have left the seas behind us,
Gladly finding at last our homes and our loves once more.
by Lucy Maud Montgomery
I have no idea where the sailboat was hailing from - it might have just been out for a days sailing enjoyment and returning home at dusk but then again it might have been on a much longer cruise 'on fretted seas in the hours of long night-watches - however it was fun for me to include L.M. Montgomery, Prince Edward Island writer of Green Gables fame. (this is the same boat, "Salty", that was posted in Homing in to the Canal 28 April '12)
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