SHIPS THAT SAIL
A WIDE and ever swinging path,
A gleaming trail across the world,
Calm with the shine of silver light,
Or wracked by billows, tempest-hurled;
And down that swaying, swinging path,
Uncharted to the far outposts,
The ships dip through the lilac dawns
Or slip away like midnight ghosts.
A gleaming trail across the world,
Calm with the shine of silver light,
Or wracked by billows, tempest-hurled;
And down that swaying, swinging path,
Uncharted to the far outposts,
The ships dip through the lilac dawns
Or slip away like midnight ghosts.
They're freighted deep with men and stores,
Each niche is filled by war's decree,
And yet—though we look close and long,
Not half their cargoes we may see.
For on them went, with cask and bale,
Unseen and all so silently,
The love of those left here behind
In scattered homes of loyalty.
Each niche is filled by war's decree,
And yet—though we look close and long,
Not half their cargoes we may see.
For on them went, with cask and bale,
Unseen and all so silently,
The love of those left here behind
In scattered homes of loyalty.
No invoice of those "stores" is made,
But, though its presence none may prove,
Beside each man that treads the deck
The shadow of some love doth move.
O ships that sail that wide highway,
O pilot at the helm of fate,
Hold true your course—come safe to port;
A thousand hearts go in your freight.
But, though its presence none may prove,
Beside each man that treads the deck
The shadow of some love doth move.
O ships that sail that wide highway,
O pilot at the helm of fate,
Hold true your course—come safe to port;
A thousand hearts go in your freight.