No tusk from trackless jungle brought,
No bone of slaughtered whale
Her wreathed and Tritoned sternports wrought
And bulwarks eggshell frail.
...
In the days when every seaport had its figureheads to show -
Queens, princesses, sea-nymphs, witches, girls of all sorts, row on row,
...
Across the field, beyond the church.
You see the sign post stand.
And towards the highway lean and lurch.
With crazy outstretched hand.
...
This is the ship the Man built . . .
In time's grey dawn, by the unsailed sea,
Hairy and lonely and wild stood he.
...
Five ricks in a row
Stand in my father's field, I know,
Five ricks beside the hedge
That marks the long field's topmost edge . . .
...
'The Western Ocean rolls and roars
From Sandy Hook to Europe's shores,
From Fastnet Light to Portland, Maine,
And Newport News and back again,
...
We've drunk our fill of pleasure,
Of town-bred ease and mirth;
Our hearts are fain to wander
The utmost ends of earth.
...
In the high halls of morning,
Where the red dawnlights glow,
On the threshold of sunrise
...
Out of the dust of cities and the din of men
I come to the clean spaces of the wide windy moors,
...
The grey wolf stood in the ruin hoar,
The wolf that hunts alone:
His shadow lay along the floor,
Athwart the cold hearthstone.
...