Thicken and darken, pass and fade;
Again and yet again they loom,
One ruby spark above each shade—
Twelve ships in all! They glide so near,
One hears the wave the fore-foot curled,
And yet to those upon the pier
They seem some other sterner world.
The coon-song whimpers to a wail,
The treble laughter sinks and dies,
The lovers cluster on the rail,