Our keel divides the waters in a silver streak,
Our prow, a golden sword, goes plunging toward the dawn,
I gaze in wonderment and awe,
Confused by unknown tongues, and towering sounds,
I long to clasp the world in one embrace.
On board the “Kronprinz Wilhelm,” Sept. 1, 1911.
EASTERLY WEATHER.
OFF MANOMET POINT.
The winds had whiffled for a week,
The tides ran high with choppy seas,