Classic Poem

A DARK , tumultuous sea, whose hither shore
Is strewn with wreck of those who sailed before,
To seek the golden lands and happy isles,
In sunny calms below the curving sky.
Bidding adieu with waving hands and smiles,
They sailed away, and here their relics lie —
A silken sail, a spar, a splintered oar,
A withered wreath, soaked in the salt sea spray,
A carven verse or name, half worn away —
And nothing more.