That showed the sea her heels—
South to the Gallapagos,
Down, due south, to the Horn,
And up, by the Windward Passage way,
On the breath of the balm-wind borne.
There, standing down the channel,
With a smoke wake o'er her rail,
Is a ship that goes to Zanzibar
Along the world-round trail,
'Ere seven suns have kissed her