Classic Poem

Ages ago I ranged the outer seas,
The shimmering main that moves below the moon,
The shoreless waters of the vaulted noon,
The drizzling oceans winter could not freeze;
With halyards twisted by the Genoese,
And sails of linen from the docks of Tyre,
I bounded onward: for the western fire
Beaconed between the Gates of Hercules.

While yesterday, with hundred flags unfurled
By all the nations, dwelling either side,
I swept from Azores round the Horn to Spain,
And left behind me, circling all the world,
As aëry offspring of my speed and pride,
The long smoke winnowed by the sun and rain.