| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (18331908). A Victorian Anthology, 18371895. 1895. |
| |
| A Passer-By |
| | | Robert Seymour Bridges (18441930) |
| |
| |
| WHITHER, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding, | |
| Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West, | |
| That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding, | |
| Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest? | |
| Ah! soon, when Winter has all our vales opprest, | 5 |
| When skies are cold and misty, and hail is hurling, | |
| Wilt thou glide on the blue Pacific, or rest | |
| In a summer haven asleep, thy white sails furling. | |
| |
| I there before thee, in the country so well thou knowest, | |
| Already arrivd, am inhaling the odorous air; | 10 |
| I watch thee enter unerringly where thou goest, | |
| And anchor queen of the strange shipping there, | |
| Thy sails for awnings spread, thy masts bare; | |
| Nor is aught, from the foaming reef to the snow-cappd, grandest | |
| Peak that is over the feathery palms, more fair | 15 |
| Than thou, so upright, so stately, and still thou standest. | |
| |
| And yet, O splendid ship, unhaild and nameless, | |
| I know not if, aiming a fancy, I rightly divine | |
| That thou hast a purpose joyful, a courage blameless, | |
| Thy port assurd in a happier land than mine. | 20 |
| But for all I have given thee, beauty enough is thine, | |
| As thou, aslant with trim tackle and shrouding, | |
| From the proud nostril curve of a prows line | |
| In the offing scatterest foam, thy white sails crowding. | |
| |
|
|
|