Classic Poem

Yes, I remember, and still remember wailing
Wind in the clouds and rainy sea-horizon,
Empty and lit with a low nocturnal glimmer;
How in the strong, deep-plunging, transatlantic
Emigrant ship we sang our songs in chorus.
Piping, the gull flew by, the roaring billows
Jammed and resounded round the mighty vessel;
Infinite uproar, endless contradiction;
Yet over all our chorus rose, reminding
Wanderers here at sea of unforgotten
Homes and the undying, old, memorial loves.
R. L. STEVENSON, ESQ.

Here in the strong, deep-plunging transatlantic
Emigrant ship the waves arose gigantic;
Piping the gull flew by, the roaring billows
Rose and appeared before the eye like pillows.
Piping the gull flew by, the roaring waves
Rose and appeared, from subter-ocean caves,
And as across the smoothing sea we roam,
Still and anon we sang our songs of home.

*****

Brown in his haste demanded this from me;
I in my leisure made the present verse.