Classic Poem

The huge sea monster, the “Merrimac”;
The mad sea monster, the “Monitor”;
You may sweep the sea, peer forward and back,
But never a sign or a sound of war.
A vulture or two in the heavens blue;
A sweet town building, a boatman's call:
The far sea-song of a pleasure crew;
The sound of hammers. And that is all.

And where are the monsters that tore this main?
And where are the monsters that shook this shore?
The sea grew mad! And the shore shot flame!
The mad sea monsters they are no more.
The palm, and the pine, and the sea sands brown;
The far sea songs of the pleasure crews;
The air like balm in this building town—
And that is the picture of Newport News.