The Moonboat

 

See, the rampant waves among,
The white moon darts her prow;
Her cloudy sails with stars are hung
As through the foam she ploughs.
But soon 'tis all to flotsam gone,
Her splintered silver spars
Adorn the billows' ebon flood
Like broken-petalled flowers.

When winter hurls his crested seas
The world falls dark with storms
Revealing rough adversities
'Neath spring's delusive forms;
And then doth Time's immortal grief
O'ershadow human moan,
For can the tree lament the leaf
When forests lie downthrown?

Oh see, the rampant waves among,
The white moon darts her prow;
Her cloudy sails with stars are hung
As through the foam she ploughs.
But soon 'tis all to flotsam gone,
Her splintered silver spars
Adorn the billows' ebon flood
Like broken-petalled flowers.