SONGS OF THE TRAWLERS AND SEA POEMS
[THE PEOPLE'S FLEET]
OUT of her darkened fishing-ports they go,
A fleet of little ships, whose every name—
Daffodil, Sea-lark, Rose and Surf and Snow,
Burns in this blackness like an altar-flame;
Out of her past they sail, three thousand strong,
The people's fleet that never knew its worth,
And every name is a broken phrase of song