Author Richard Henry Dana And, nigh, the tall ship 's burning on, With red, hot spars and crackling flame; From hull to gallant, nothing 's gone;ā She burns, and yet 's the same!Her hot, red flame is beating, all the night,On man and Horse, in their cold, phosphor light. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments