Stood by the desert's edge alone,
And long he look'd, and lean'd. He peer'd,
Above his twirl'd and twisted beard,
Beneath his black and slouchy hat ...
Nay, nay, the tale is not of that.
A skin-clad trapper, toe-a-tip,
Stood on a mountain top, and he
Look'd long and still and eagerly.
"It looks so like some lonesome ship
That sails this ghostly lonely sea,—